


The Demons We Hide

by muses_circle, xtremeroswellian



Series: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala [1]
Category: Smallville, Supernatural
Genre: Arguments, Car Breakdowns, Chloe Sullivan is not your damsel in distress, Cults, F/M, Flirting, Gen, Hunting, New Friends, Running away from your problems is a viable solution sometimes, Teasing, missing people, sam has visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:47:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23901049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muses_circle/pseuds/muses_circle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: When they stop to help a blond woman stranded on the side of the road, Dean and Sam learn that they have a lot more in common with her than they first assumed.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Chloe Sullivan, Sam Winchester & Chloe Sullivan
Series: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722754
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

Sam let out an annoyed sigh and stretched the map over the dashboard, studying it the best he could in the moving car. "It'd help if you'd pull over for five minutes," he grumbled.

Deliberately swerving around the road, Dean smirked at Sam's swearing. "We don't have time to stop," he stated flatly. "Gotta be in Topeka by nightfall. You'll just have to deal, College Boy." He turned up the music to a deafening level.

He shot his older brother a glare, wincing as his injured hand bumped against the door. He probably should have gone to the hospital because in all likelihood it was broken. Too bad they both hated hospitals. Especially now. His mood was gloomy as he stared at the map intently. "All right you're gonna wanna turn right on exit 21."

Watching exit 21 pass as Sam said that, he asked, "Oh, you mean THAT exit?" Sighing, Dean was about to do a complete 180 in the middle of the road when he noticed a bright red car up the road. A Beetle. And... a woman. Dean hit the gas and gunned it.

"What the hell?" Sam looked at Dean like he'd lost his mind as he gunned the engine instead of turned around. When he spotted the same thing his brother had, he rolled his eyes. "Oh you've gotta be kidding me."

Glancing at Sam, he smirked as he watched the pretty blonde bend over into the open hood in an attempt to figure out what was wrong with her car. "What? You gonna let THAT stay stranded on the side of the road?" He snorted as he stared and pulled over to the side of the road.

"Yeah because meeting blondes on the side of the road's worked so well for us in the past," he mumbled, thinking of how he'd met Meg.

"Not my fault Meg was a psycho," he grumbled under his breath, knowing what Sam was talking about. He slowly got out of the car, just in time to see the blonde lean up and turn around. He put on his best smile. "Got some car trouble, miss?"

The blonde regarded them warily, but didn't seem frightened. Sam offered her a small smile, hoping she wasn't going to turn out to be a demon of some kind.

"Yeah, you could say that." There was a hint of frustration in her voice, and her green eyes were filled with mixed emotions.

Turning around to give Sam the 'get out of the car' look, Dean looked at the girl and smiled lazily. "Lucky for you I know something about cars."

Sam reluctantly got out of the Impala and hung close to the door, ready to leave Dean in the dust if the girl showed any signs of demonic evil. Funny thing, though... she just looked upset.

"I've called Triple A," she informed him, not really in the mood to deal with anyone of the male persuasion at the moment.

Dean laughed. Hard. "Triple A, huh?" he said, looking at Sam. "It'll take them... what? At least an hour to get here and they'll charge you through the nose. I'm much cheaper."

She didn't smile. "If you wanna look at it, that'd be great." She moved away from the hood and leaned against the driver's side of the car.

Sam shot her a shy, hesitant smile. "Dean knows his cars," he said, watching Dean lean over the engine and take a long, hard look.

Nodding, but not meeting his eyes, she kept her gaze focused on the road, her body tense. A lock of her blonde hair blew in her face from the cold December wind and she swiped it away.

Once under the hood, Dean got himself momentarily lost in the beauty that was a car's engine. Even if it was a Volkswagen. His nose was immediately assaulted by the smell of radiator fluid. "Oh yeah, this puppy's not going anywhere," he said softly, moving back to crouch under the car.

"Fantastic," she said under her breath, her shoulders slumping as she leaned more heavily against her car, shutting her eyes. Wasn't that just her luck?

"Yep," Dean was saying, standing back up and dusting off his jeans. "Nothing bad, just a blown radiator. But you're gonna need a tow and a ride into town." He looked at the back of the girl's head and smiled.

Rolling his eyes, Sam shot his brother a look to be nice. It hadn't escaped his attention that the girl seemed like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. "We can give you a ride," he said slowly.

She looked up, startled at the offer. Then she glanced at Dean. "How long does that usually take to fix?" she asked, a hint of anxiousness in her tone.

Dean shrugged, a hint of flirtation in his smile. "Couple days."

A curse word she hardly ever spoke escaped her lips, though it was barely audible. She had the sudden urge to turn and kick her once beloved car for letting her down the same way everyone else had lately. Tears springing to her eyes, she turned away, blinking them back.

"It's really not a big deal," Dean said, his voice dying in his throat at the murderous look on her face. "Name's Dean. This is my brother Sam."

"I'm Chloe," she muttered, forcing herself to take a deep breath.

"Chloe, you... okay?" Sam asked quietly, noticing the blatant emotions cross her face.

Looking at Sam, Dean asked, "Yeah, where you headed?"

"As far away from Kansas as I can get," she responded, raking a hand through her hair. "Where are you guys going?"

Shrugging, Dean replied, "Louisville, Kentucky." He wanted to laugh at the look Sam gave him. "Aren't we, Sammy?" He looked pointedly at Sam.

"Sure," Sam said with a note of resignation in his voice.

"That's a good start," Chloe murmured, looking between them warily. "You guys sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not," Sam replied, his voice polite and calm. "What do you want to do with your car?"

She was silent for a moment, looking at it with sad eyes. "I think I'll just leave it."

"Leave it?" Dean asked, genuinely surprised at her comment. Not that he'd ever leave his first love, the Impala. "Seriously?"

"Better this way anyway." She pulled her bags out of the backseat. It'd be a lot harder to track her if she ditched her car.

Walking to the back of the Impala, dean popped the trunk and let her put her things in the false trunk top. "I'll make Sam take the backseat," he whispered with a small smile.

"That's really not necessary," she said quietly, meeting his gaze for the first time.

Dean was taken back by the depth of Chloe's green eyes. And the emotion behind them. Swallowing visibly, he smiled at her lopsidedly. "No, it really is. Sam hates sitting in the back."

Her eyebrows furrowed a little. "Which is probably why I should sit there," she said in confusion.

Slamming the trunk closed, he winked at her. "First thing you'll learn. I love pissing Sammy off." Walking to the front of the car, he yelled, "Sam, you're in the backseat!"

Muttering a curse, Sam shot a hateful glance at Dean. "You're asking for it," he grumbled as he got into the back seat.

Frowning a little, Chloe put her hand on the back door of the Impala. "Really, I can sit in back."

"No, it's okay, Chloe," Sam replied from the back of the car. "Payback's a bitch and Dean knows that."

Throwing her a lazy smile, Dean looked at her from across the car. "He's just jealous because I won the last round of pranks."

She gave him a quizzical look, shaking her head as she reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat. "Nice car," she said softly.

"Be gentle with her," Sam said sarcastically. "It's Dean's love."

Starting the engine, Dean smiled seductively. "Yeah, she purrs only for me." Putting the car into drive, he maneuvered the Impala onto the road in the opposite direction.

"I bet she does," she remarked with a faint smirk, turning her head to stare blankly out the passenger window.

For several moments, the three of them sat in awkward silence. Dean's fingers itched to turn on some tunes, but he refrained. Something about the way she was slumped in the seat worried him a little. "So Chloe... where you from?"

"Kansas," she said vaguely, not looking at him.

"Big state," Dean commented idly. "Care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

Shrugging his shoulders, he leaned over and turned on his favorite Metallica song, humming along to it and drumming against the steering wheel.

Sam smiled a little, settling into the backseat. Trust Dean to try to attract a woman who apparently had no interest in him.

* * *

Chloe was somewhere between exhausted and wound up by the time they arrived in Hudson, Missouri. The ride had been in relative silence, which suited her just fine. Neither of the guys seemed threatening and she didn’t feel like she was in danger. Of course, she didn’t usually feel in danger until some meteor freak tried to off her. She climbed out of the passenger seat, toting both of her bags as she looked up at the vacancy sign at the small motel. She glanced at Sam and Dean briefly, then headed for the lobby.

Following Chloe, Dean frowned as they entered the hotel lobby. It had been a long ride for him, especially since she wasn’t forthcoming with anything about herself. Seemed to him that she was running, but from what, he didn’t have a clue. Though a small yet curvy woman, he got the impression she was anything but frail. Good for him, he thought as he paid for a room with a card he’d scammed off a guy on their last stop. Sam seemed awfully quiet, too, following Chloe as they’d gotten adjoining rooms.

Sam had been wondering the entire time what Chloe was afraid of or running from, but he didn’t know how to ask her. Instead, he said, “You need us, we’ll be right next door.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, barely glancing at him as she headed into the room and quietly shut the door behind her, locking it immediately. Setting her bags down, she glanced at the small digital clock on the nightstand by the bed. She’d been gone for slightly over fourteen hours. She wondered if anyone had noticed yet. She doubted it. She flopped down on the bed and closed her eyes, covering them with her arms and exhaling slowly.

Shutting the door behind him, Dean looked around at the slightly shabby hotel room and threw his bag on the floor. “She’s running from something,” he commented, not looking at Sam.

“You figured that out, too, huh?” Sam looked toward the door worriedly. “What do you think she’s running from?”

“Kinda obvious, man,” Dean replied, a frown on his face. “I have no idea what she’s running from, but I’m pretty sure it’s from something... maybe someone... in Kansas.” He sat up, scratching his head and wondering how to get her to open up.

He was silent for a moment. “You think someone hurt her?”

“With eyes as sad as hers?” Dean asked seriously. “Hell yeah. Boyfriend, maybe?” He didn’t like the sound of that, but he had to ask nonetheless.

“Maybe,” he murmured, still looking worried. “She was awful quick to decide to ditch her car.”

Dean nodded. “Especially for something as simple as a busted radiator.” He looked at Sam’s worried face. “Dude, your face is gonna break if you frown any harder.”

“I just wonder what we got ourselves involved in, Dean.”

Looking at Sam, he cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, here it comes. The blame game.” He stood up and moved to the bathroom to get some water. “You gonna blame me for all this?”

“Not what I said,” he replied tiredly, lying down on the bed, and rubbing his forehead. “If she’s in trouble, we should help, but...”

“But you think there’s going to be trouble with her around,” he replied, taking a long drink of water and grimacing. “Where’s the bourbon when you need it?” he asked himself.

“And not exactly our kind of trouble.”

“So we drop her off in Louisville and leave her there?” he demanded, looking hard at Sam. “Does it matter what her problem is? It’s not like you haven’t asked the same of me before.” And look how those turned out, he thought to himself.

“That’s not what I meant, either.”

Sighing, he looked at Sam. “Alright, dude. You’re gonna have to explain it to me, cause I can’t read minds.” He sat down expectantly.

“Dean, we were already on another case,” he pointed out.

“Right, the mysterious deaths in Topeka,” Dean replied, looking into his glass and wishing it was alcohol. “So we drop her off in Louisville, leave her, and get back to our job. A little out of the way, but...” He shrugged his shoulders casually, hiding the fact that he actually didn’t know what to do with Chloe.

“Yeah, but if she’s in some kind of trouble, we can’t just ditch her,” Sam said softly, knowing his brother didn’t want to do that anymore than he did. “So...we figure out what’s going on with her, help her out of it...and then head back to Kansas.” He looked over at Dean with raised eyebrows.

Looking out of his glass and at Sam, he said, “Sure, dude. Like I said... without the whole leaving her part. So you gonna just go next door and ask her what she’s running from?” He looked pointedly at the connecting door.

“Me?”

The look on Sam’s face was priceless. Dean laughed. “You afraid of her?” he asked.

“Of course not,” he scoffed. “But you’re the one who decided to pick her up off the side of the road and flirt with her for 200 miles.”

“I didn’t flirt with her for 200 miles,” he mocked slightly. “She shot me down after about 50.” He sighed and put down his glass. “Fine, I’ll go talk to her.”

Sam smirked. “Be nice.”

“Hey, it’s me,” he replied with a smirk, moving to the connecting door and lightly rapping on it.

“Exactly,” he mumbled under his breath, heading for the bathroom to take a shower.

Snorting back the rueful laughter, Dean knocked a little louder on the door, wondering if Chloe would answer it or if he was going to beat it down.

A moment later the door opened and Chloe gazed at him guardedly. “Yeah?”

Once again, Dean was aware of the depth of some unknown emotion in her dark green eyes and swallowed hard. “We need to talk,” he said, not knowing how else to say it.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gone in the morning,” she told him without hesitation. “I appreciate the help.” She started to close the door.

Dean grabbed the door, preventing her from shutting him out. “Oh no,” he replied, looking at her sternly. “I’ve offered you help, and I’m not letting you go until we’ve helped you.”

“Actually you offered me a ride, which I appreciate,” she retorted.

“Yeah, because you’re going to have oh so much fun hitchhiking from here on out,” he said lazily, leaning against the doorjamb.

“Who said anything about hitchhiking?”

“Walking, riding the bus...” He waved his hand in the air. “Point is, you’re going to be alone. And I don’t know who you’re running from, but I promise you, they always catch up eventually.”

Chloe blanched involuntarily, her face paling a little. He had a point. It didn’t matter how she left, she had the distinct feeling she’d be found sooner or later. And it wasn’t like she could just use a credit card and hop a flight across the Atlantic. Too easy to track down then. Shit. Feeling tired, she shut her eyes, slumping against the door frame.

Dean watched her face turn white as a sheet and knew he had hit a nerve. Crossing his arms, he said, “Sam and I, we’re good at helping people. It’s... a thing we do. Really, maybe we can help.” He just hoped it ended up being a supernatural problem.

“Somehow I doubt it,” she whispered, turning away and moving farther into her room, sinking slowly down on the edge of the bed.

Unsure of whether he should invade her space or not, Dean remained propped against the door. “Not surprised you’re doubting our kick-ass abilities,” he replied nonchalantly.

Lifting an eyebrow, she looked up at him. “I don’t need kick-ass abilities. I’m not in danger. Unless some meteor freak followed me out of Smallville,” she added in a mumble.

Standing up straight, he frowned at her. “Meteor freak?” he asked. “Oh, so you’re from Smallville, then.” He’d heard of the place, of course. The weirdness that happened there knew no bounds, though that was one place he and Sam had never needed to drive through.

“Sort of,” she answered, looking tired.

Dean’s face darkened at Chloe’s tiredness. It bothered him that such a pretty girl could look so haggard. It just wasn’t right. “Look, I get that you don’t want me around, so... I’m going to leave you alone.” He turned to close the connecting door behind him. Why he had never bothered to learn to actually talk to girls was beyond him, he thought.

“Dean.” Her voice was soft.

“Yeah,” he said matter-of-factly, stopping to look back at her.

She lifted her gaze to meet his. “I do appreciate the ride out of Kansas.”

Dean hesitated for a moment. “What are you running from?” he asked quietly.

Her eyes clouded over and she looked down at the floor. “You ever just wanna start all over? Not look back?”

He immediately thought of his father, the man he had always looked up to, who taught him everything he knew. The man who’d died unexpectedly. Suspiciously.

Lately especially, the need to leave his life for another one was stronger than ever. But he couldn’t, no matter how much he wanted to. Because of Sam. Because of his damn father. Because of too many reasons he didn’t want to face. Looking down, his jaw clenched in anger. “Yes,” he said simply.

When she spoke again, her voice was thick. “That’s what I’m doing.”

A sudden thought occurred to him, though he knew Sam would probably murder him to even mentioning it. “So make a new life hanging out with us,” he replied. “Can’t say it’s a steady one, but hell, it has its perks.” And having a girl around might be cool, he thought.

Chloe jerked her head up to stare at him in shock. “You barely know me.”

He smiled, a lazy grin on his face. “Two weeks smushed in the Impala would fix that,” he replied, taking a couple steps into her room.

“You’re serious,” she said with wide-eyes.

“Most of the time, no,” he replied casually. “This time, though... Yes, I am.” He couldn’t believe he was offering, but he sure wasn’t going to take it back. Chloe looked like she needed a friend.

Her green eyes locked on his blue ones and remained there for several long moments. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but...” She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “All right.”

“Good,” he said, releasing the pent up breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Yeah, having her around would be good. For both of them, he thought. Sam and his ever-incessant need to talk about their father had been grating on him for sometime. Maybe he wouldn’t do that with her around. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“Where are we going? And what exactly...do you do?” she asked, wondering what she’d just gotten herself into.

Scratching his head, Dean hesitated for a moment. How DID he tell her what they did? he asked himself. “We’ve got to head back to Topeka for a... job, in a sense.” He looked at her intently, his eyes darkening with seriousness. “Do you have an open mind?” he asked cautiously.

Despite her tiredness and all the thoughts swirling in her head, a grin formed on her lips. “You could say that.”

“You’re gonna need it, then, because...” Dean paused, wondering if she was ready to hear this.

Chloe raised her eyebrows, growing more intrigued every second. She leaned forward a little. “Because...?”

“We hunt things,” he finished in a solemn voice, watching the interest in her eyes with an amused look of his own.

Her eyes twinkled. “I’m assuming you’re not talking about moose and squirrel.”

Dean laughed. “Hell no. Sam can’t shoot those to save his life.” His laughter subsided, however, as he continued. “No, we hunt those things that go bump in the night.”

A short chuckle escaped her. Like meteor freaks? she thought, bemused. How perfectly ironic.

Dean’s brow furrowed into a frown. Okay, not the response he was expecting. “That funny to you?” he asked darkly, staring at her amused face.

His look only made her chuckle again and she held up a hand. “No, no. I’m sorry, it’s just...” She let out a breath, shaking her head a little. “If you knew how many encounters I’ve had with things that go bump in the night...you’d find it incredibly ironic that I ran into two guys on the side of the road, no less, who hunt said things.”

He smiled wryly, finding it incredibly ironic to find a young woman who not only knew about the evil out there but had faced it and survived. “Then we have something to talk about in the car,” he offered.

This time when she smiled, it was sincere.

Dean felt like he’d been punched in the gut with Chloe’s real smile. It made him feel things he thought had been long buried, which caused no small amount of concern. The smile died on his face as he grew serious. “It’s late. I should go and let you sleep. Believe me, you’ll need it.”

Nodding slightly, she gazed at him. “Goodnight,” she said softly, her green eyes seeming to see right through him.

Unnerved by the way she was staring at him, Dean shook his head and looked away from her. “Bus heads out at 7AM, so to speak.” With that last comment, he turned and walked back through the connecting door, shutting it quietly and wondering what he had gotten he and Sam into.

***

"You did WHAT?" Sam Winchester stared at his brother in disbelief. It was official. Dean had actually lost his mind this time.

"Sammy, I didn't have a choice," Dean protested, his ears nearly bleeding from the sheer volume of Sam's shouting. Nails on a chalkboard would have been preferable, at this point. "She was gonna up and leave..."

"And so your genius idea is to bring her along with us?"

Dean refused to be bullied by his younger brother, so he glared at him. "Seemed like a good idea, man. What's your problem, anyway? It's not like she isn't familiar with what we do."

Sam stared at him in disbelief. "Dean, what we do is...dangerous! You wanna put some girl in that kind of situation just because you have a little crush on her?"

It was his turn to stare in disbelief. "A crush? Wha --? Dude, I seriously think you've lost your mind."

He snorted. "No, that'd be you. I'm not the one who invited some complete stranger along with us on the road while we hunt down all the monsters in the country."

Staring hard at Sam, Dean grunted. "Something tells me Chloe would be able to help us."

"Yeah, because she's all of what...ninety pounds?"

"Been taking her measurements, have you?" Dean asked suggestively, smiling at Sam unexpectedly. He somehow knew she weighted a little more than that. She was way too curvy to be that light.

Sam glared at him. "No. My head's in the job." He motioned toward the adjoining door with his injured hand. "You really wanna be the one to put her in harm's way? Because I don't. It's the reason I kept Jessica out of all this to begin with!"

Glaring back, daggers shooting from his eyes, Dean retorted, "And you lost her, Sam. If you'd have told her, she might still be alive." He saw Sam turn red with anger as he brutally shoved Dean against the wall.

"You have no right," he whispered, tears stinging his eyes as he glared at Dean.

Chloe cleared her throat as she stood in the now open doorway between their rooms, her green eyes filled with concern.

Getting up with a grunt, Dean didn't see Chloe at first. "All I'm saying, bro, is maybe Chloe can..." His voice died as he saw her standing there, looking at them both.

She gazed at him intently, then shifted her gaze to Sam wordlessly.

Sam glanced over at Chloe, feeling a little remorse for doubting her but too pissed at Dean's remark to care much. "Sorry if we woke you up," he said in an even but flat voice.

Chloe was silent for a moment. "It's okay. I wasn't asleep," she said just as evenly. "When you have a minute, can we talk?" She looked back at Dean.

Sam threw a hateful glare in Dean's direction. "He's got time now. I'm taking a walk." Before Dean had a chance to say anything, he strode to the front door and opened it, slamming it hard behind him.

Running a hand through his short hair, he frowned and looked at Chloe. "Seems I got the time. What's up?" he asked, knowing what she was going to ask. He forced himself to calm down.

She gazed at him. "Sam doesn't want me to come." It wasn't a question.

"No, he doesn't," Dean said. "Sam doesn't think I should have asked you. Thinks that... Well..." He stopped, not wanting to offend her but still trying to grasp what exactly Sam was trying to tell him.

"That I'd be a burden and slow you down and put you all in more danger than you're already in since I'm a girl and clearly know nothing about how to defend myself."

He gulped. It was like she had read his mind. "Basically," he replied. "But that's HIS opinion, Chloe. Not mine."

She drew in a breath, her eyes dark with emotion. "Look, I appreciate everything...and it was a nice offer. It's probably best if I just head out on my own from here." There was resolve in her voice.

Dean immediately shook his head. "No way," he said. "Where you gonna go, anyway?" His eyes met hers with an intensity that matched her own.

Chloe shrugged a little. "Not like it matters a lot. I'll find someplace."

"That's exactly the problem," he retorted with a frown. "Think you stand a chance on your own with everything you know about freaks and evil spirits?"

"More than someone who knows nothing about it," she answered, folding her arms across her chest and lifting her chin a little. "I don't need protection."

"Yeah, cause you got the Girl Power, that it?" he demanded harshly, his eyes hard with a determined glint.

Her jaw tensed and her eyes narrowed into a glare. "About as much as you have of the macho jackass syndrome," she said just as harshly.

"Hey, I've worked hard to get that macho jackass syndrome," he snapped with anger, before he stopped and looked away. "I'm sorry," he whispered, actually regretting his snarky comeback.

"Yeah, and I've worked hard not to be the damsel in distress in the recent past," she said quietly, the tiredness seeping back into her voice.

Scuffling his foot on the carpet, he kept his head down. "You're no damsel in distress," he replied in a low voice. "Getting into the car with two strange, though good-looking, guys? That takes guts." He snuck a look in her direction and smiled.

"Well, you weren't throwing off any 'going to kill' me type vibes so I figured what the hell," she said wryly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Good to know," Dean replied, the smile still on his face. "Please. Stay and hang out. Sam... He'll come around." He briefly thought about Meg and the horrors that came with her. Despite that, however, he honestly believed Chloe might do Sam some good... though not in the same way she could help him.

She didn't understand why he was so insistent that she come with them. It's not like they knew each other. And equally, she didn't understand why she wanted to go with them. But she did. Hesitating, Chloe looked at the floor. "I don't wanna cause problems between the two of you."

Looking away, he thought about all the other issues between Sam and him. Deep down, Dean knew Sam was more angry over John's death than he was about Chloe tagging along with them. "Believe me, you're not a problem," he replied softly. "You'd be safer if you stuck with us."

He was right, of course. If there was trouble, it was drawn to her like steel to a magnet. And vice versa. And it wasn't like she had anyone to watch her back without them. Not anymore. A flicker of anger passed over her face, followed by one of intense sadness. They were both gone just as fleetingly as they'd appeared. "I wanna talk to him."

Dean frowned. He knew there was a lot more going on in her mind than she was revealing. Whatever thoughts were haunting her was nearly as bad as Sam's guilt over Jess's death a year ago. "He's in anger mode right now," he replied. "Better to let him cool down a little." And that might take awhile, he mused silently.

She shrugged a little. "All right."

Looking at her, he smiled lazily again. "Alright." An awkward silence settled between them, which only unnerved Dean more.

"I guess I should..." She motioned to her room, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Yeah," he told her, glancing at her briefly. "You want me to get you when Sam gets back?"

"If you think he's safe to talk to then," she said with a faint smile that didn't come close to reaching her eyes.

"One thing about Sam. He likes those chick flick conversations. Really pisses me off sometimes," Dean growled. "He'll be ready to talk by the time he gets back."

She suppressed a chuckle. "Good to know."

"Huh. For you, maybe," he muttered, looking at the door and wondering where the hell Sam was.

Chloe grinned. "I'll see you in awhile." She started to head for the door.

"Chloe?" Dean asked, turning to look at her.

"Yeah?" She paused and turned to look back at him.

"Glad to have you along." A genuinely friendly smile crossed his lips.

Her eyes sparkled and she offered him a warm smile in return. "Glad to be here," she said softly.

"Better stop looking at me like that," Dean warned playfully. "Might give a guy... ideas."

She was more than a little taken aback at his words. Was he actually flirting with her? She raised her eyebrows, still grinning. "Maybe that's what I wanna do," she said before she could stop herself. Winking at him, she turned and disappeared into her own room.

Watching the door close behind her, Dean couldn't help but smile, a wicked yet knowing glint in his eye. Having Chloe along was definitely going to be an adventure he'd never forget.


	2. Chapter 2

It took nearly everything Sam had to knock on the connecting door to Chloe's room. The second he'd gotten back from his walk, Dean had demanded that he talk to Chloe. All because she'd wanted to talk to him.

Sam wondered at the insanity that was his brother, Dean Winchester. Especially with this girl. Sam still didn't entirely trust her, but he supposed it was fair to hear her out. Besides, he had a small supply of salt to line the connecting door with in case she turned out to be a demon. Knocking loudly, he glanced at Dean, who was watching television, and waited for Chloe to answer.

A moment later, Chloe opened the door, looking worn out but yet still very much awake. "Hey, Sam," she said softly. "Come on in."

Hesitating for a moment, he stepped across the divide into her room. "Hey," he said, not looking at her. "Dean said you wanted to talk?"

She nodded slightly, shutting the door and leaning against it. "I'm not sure what happened earlier with you guys, but...I sorta feel like it was...partially because of me."

Rubbing his nose with two fingers, Sam sighed in frustration. "I hope our screaming and me knocking Dean on his ass didn't upset you too much. Happens all the time." He glanced up at her warily, not sure what to make of this really short, blonde chick that his brother seemed attracted to.

"Well that's reassuring." She offered him a faint smile. She was quiet for a moment. "I understand why you don't want me to come along."

Frowning, Sam replied, "It's not you, Chloe. I swear. I... I mean... it's just that... enough people have gotten hurt in our paths. I didn't want to add to the body count." He thought fleetingly of his lost Jessica, though only his eyes showed his dark thoughts.

Her eyes were almost as dark with sadness as his. "It's okay. I know it's not personal."

Her small, hurt voice made him regret everything he'd said to Dean. Well, almost, anyway. "Hunting is... dangerous, Chloe. Deadly. It's not all research and stuff; more times than not, one of us ends up with something broken or bloody." He looked up and stared at her, his eyes intense with the memories of everything they've fought and killed.

She held up a hand. "Trust me when I say I understand." There was a grimness in her voice that spoke volumes. She tucked some hair behind her ear and headed toward the closet.

Sam was clearly confused. Watching her with steady eyes, he asked, "You wanna elaborate on that? You don't look like the type to get down and dirty in demon goo."

As she pulled her bags from the closet and moved over to the desk where her computer was set up, she glanced at him sideways. "Let's just say there's plenty of danger where I've been living the past few years."

His curiosity got the better of him. "Where are you from?" he asked. "Aside from just Kansas?"

"Originally from Metropolis," she told him. "But...in more recent years, a little town called Smallville."

"Oh yeah, I've heard lots of... interesting things about Smallville," Sam said, stifling a laugh. He knew too much about that place to stay away from it unless... He grimaced as he thought about his father. As if he needed to go there. Again. "I... imagine you've seen some weird stuff," he said, trying to keep his tone light.

"Seen weird stuff, been possessed by weird stuff, had weird stuff try to murder me. The usual." She shrugged, not looking at him as she slid her laptop into her bag.

Sam smiled this time. Her matter-of-fact tone told him she wasn't the kind of person who was afraid of the things he and Dean hunted on a regular basis. And he guessed that based on the wear and tear on her laptop, Chloe used it. A lot. "I take it you like surfing the web?" he asked.

She chuckled. "That's one way to put it." She finally turned to look at him once more. "I'm a reporter. Sort of." Chloe shrugged. "I do a lot of research."

"Really?" he asked, sounding a little surprised. She didn't look old enough to be a reporter. "Where did you work?"

Something in her expression darkened. "The Daily Planet. I was interning there. But it wasn't the first time." She turned away once more, zipping up her bag, her hands shaking slightly.

Awareness dawned on him. "I bet you worked on your high school paper, too, didn't you?" he asked, sensing the change in her mood but unsure how to broach the subject.

"I did," she confirmed. "The Torch."

Sam just nodded, taking a couple steps to get out of her way. "It'll be nice to have someone to help me researching our hunts. Dean thinks Google is something you do to women." He smirked.

She almost dropped her bag, but she wasn't sure which startled her more: the fact that he was now seeming to accept the idea of her tagging along, or the fact someone on the planet didn't know what Google was.

Sam laughed at her reaction. "It's okay, Chloe. Dean's good at other things I don't have a clue about." His laughter died and he became serious again. "You're okay, you know that? I just... don't want you to get hurt because you happen to be tagging along with us."

She smiled faintly. "I appreciate that. But I figure...if I managed to survive all these years of meteor freak attacks...well." Chloe shrugged a little.

Nodding, Sam replied, "I'm going to hold you to that, because if you're gonna stay with us, things might get hairy... and I'm not just talking about Dean's sense of humor, either."

She smirked. "You're talking about yours, too?" she teased.

Holding up his hands in mock surrender, he said, "Hey, not talking about me, here." He grinned at her, though, accepting that they had a third traveling buddy. And it was going to be fun watching she and Dean verbally spar with each other, he thought.

Chloe offered him a real smile. "We should probably get some sleep." As if, she thought.

"We should... though I doubt I'm gonna sleep." Sam yawned, nevertheless. He started for the connecting door, then stopped. Pulling his small bag of salt out, he threw it to her. "Here, take this and pour it behind the front door of your room."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Are you expecting some kind of ghost to show up tonight?"

Grinning, Sam replied, "No, but you never know when a demon might try to break in. The salt line keeps them from entering the room. Trust me; it's always handy to keep some on you."

"Good to know." She smiled and glanced down at the bag as after he headed into his own room. Shaking her head a little, she moved to the door and poured the line of salt across the entrance. Then almost chuckled. She wondered if it kept out big dumb aliens, too.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Dean drove the Impala hard the next day, trying to make up for the time lost in driving away from their job in Topeka, Kansas. And though the dust seemed to have settled between Chloe and Sam, the ride had been, nevertheless, very quiet and a little intense. The closer they got to the Kansas state line, the more worried Chloe became. Dean had been staring at her through the rearview mirror all day, his look becoming dark.

"Dude, will you just drive the car and... stop?" Sam asked, giving Dean a knowing look.

Clearing his throat, Dean looked again at Chloe. "You okay back there?"

Blinking slowly she turned to meet his gaze in the rearview. "Fine," she murmured before looking back out the window once more and falling silent again.

"Yeah, you said that the LAST time I asked you," he pointed out.

Shaking his head, Sam shifted his body so that he could look at Chloe from the front seat. "Don't mind my brother. He gets cranky when he hasn't had his morning cup of coffee."

A faint smile touched her lips. "Can't say I blame him. God knows I need a couple lattes before I'm fully awake."

"A latte, huh?" Dean asked, grinning faintly. "Give me plain, straight up, black coffee any day. None of that fancy girlie stuff." He grunted, wishing they were ten miles closer to the nearest quick stop for that much needed cup of coffee.

"That girlie stuff got me outta bed and kept me awake from 3 in the morning til midnights when I needed it to," she informed him.

Dean snorted. "Of course it did. Look at all the sugar, caffeine, carbs --"

"Yeah, this coming from the guy who can wolf down a triple cheeseburger in exactly one minute," Sam interrupted him, throwing Dean a warning look.

"What? I'm just saying," Dean protested.

Chloe smirked, momentarily pulled from her dark mood by the snarking. "You drink coffee, Sam?"

Sam smiled. "Only when I have to. Late night study sessions, cramming for finals... well, during college, anyways." He looked down and was quiet for a moment.

Her own face fell a little and she looked back out the window. "Yeah," she murmured.

"And the awkwardness comes back," Dean muttered under his breath as he reached for the radio to turn it on.

"How close are we to Topeka?" Sam asked, trying to find something to talk about.

"Oh, probably another 400 miles," Dean replied, taking another quick look at Chloe in the rearview mirror, his face serious.

"Great," she murmured inaudibly, swallowing hard.

Sam watched Chloe fall back into herself and looked over at Dean. His serious look said pull over ASAP.

Nodding, Dean sped towards the gas station just over the horizon. Once they came to a screeching halt, Sam got out of the car. "I'll gas up. Chloe, need anything?"

"Coffee," she said softly, climbing out of the backseat.

"Okay," Sam said, going to the back of the car to pump the gas.

"Hang on a sec, Chloe," Dean replied, hoping she'd stay in the car with him.

She glanced back at him. "Yeah?"

"I've noticed you've been really, REALLY quiet the last couple hundred miles," Dean said, just getting to the point. "What gives?" He couldn't go into a job worrying about whether she was okay or not.

She shrugged. "Just haven't felt like talking."

Crossing his arms, he leaned back and looked at her pale face. "Uh huh," he said, clearly not believing her. Whatever it was that made her bolt was in Kansas. But he wanted to hear her say that.

She simply gazed back at him with an emotionless expression on her face.

"Not going to tell me?" he asked, a note of resignation in his voice. "Okay, but if you try to jump out the window at the state line, I'm not going to try to stop you." He opened the door and started to get out.

"I'm not suicidal," she told him, turning and heading for the station to get herself some coffee.

"Could've fooled me," he mumbled, watching her walk away. He moved to Sam, who was still pumping the gas and frowned. "Dude, you able to get anything from her about why she's on the run last night?"

He let out a breath, glancing at his brother and then watching her disappear into the station. "Not really. Just that she's originally from Metropolis, been living in Smallville for awhile...and she's a reporter." He paused.

"Reporter, huh?" Dean replied, his eyes still on the gas station door. "You think she's on the run because of some news story or something? Like she was interviewing the Mafia and it got too hot for her?"

Sam made a face. "I don't think so. But she does seem to know a lot about some weird stuff...which goes with the territory of living in Smallville, I guess. Said she's seen, been possessed and almost murdered by numerous 'meteor freaks.'"

"Huh." Dean had heard of these so-called mutant people who had been changed somehow by the events of the two meteor showers that had hit Smallville, but he still couldn't imagine Chloe being involved in all of that.

"Pretty sure she was telling the truth. The look on her face..." He shook his head.

"You mean the deer in headlights look she gets every time one of us mentions where she's from, what she's going... what she's running from?" he asked thoughtfully, puzzled more by her behavior than by the job they needed to focus on.

"That would be the one," Sam confirmed, gazing at his brother.

"Got any ideas about how to get her to... talk?" Dean asked. "Open up, chit-chat... whatever it is that makes women feel better when they've got something on their minds?" He smiled ruefully. He couldn't believe he was asking his little brother advice on women.

Sam almost laughed. "Somehow I don't think she's gonna open up as easily as some would," he admitted.

"Wonderful," he replied sarcastically. "Guess I might have to beat it out of her, then, because... her silence is as fun as nails on a chalkboard." He scratched his head, absolutely befuddled.

"Or maybe you just...relax and let her tell us when she's ready. It's not like we've been overly sharing with her," Sam pointed out.

"I hate it when you're right," he grumbled, watching Chloe come out of the gas station, large cup of coffee in hand, her eyes down and lost in thought.

"I'll go pay and get some coffee myself," he said to Sam, walking around the other side of the gas pumps so Chloe wouldn't be forced to talk to him again.

Sighing, Sam watched his brother go, and shook his head.

Chloe offered Sam a faint smile before climbing back into the car once more, slowly sipping the coffee she'd gotten. It was pretty much horrid, but it'd have to do.

"How's the coffee?" Sam asked, peeking his head in to look at Chloe.

"About like you'd expect coffee from a gas station to taste," she said with a grim smile.

"Oh good. That'll put Dean in a rare mood," he replied, straightening up and walking into the gas station for a cup himself, since it was his turn to drive.

It didn't take Dean long to pay for the gas and a cup of their stagnant yet strong cup of coffee and pile into the passenger seat to wait for Sam. He didn't dare look at Chloe, though he couldn't stop thinking about why she was with them instead of being the reporter she'd claimed to be. Still, it was a better train of thought than thinking about how much he hated Dad for dying on them, he thought to himself.

"This is the worst coffee ever," she said, her voice light. She wanted to let him know in a nonchalant way that she wasn't upset with him, she just wasn't ready to talk yet.

Taking a long sip and watching Sam make his way back to the Impala, Dean replied, "Yeah, puts hair on your chest." He turned his head and threw her a small, flirtatious smile.

She almost choked on her drink. "Well in that case you should probably take my share."

Dean's smile widened. "Why? Maybe I like my women hairy." He turned around as Sam got into the car.

Chloe made a face and momentarily considered dumping the rest of the coffee on his head. Too bad she liked the car.

Taking one look at Chloe's face, Sam slid into the driver's seat and looked at his brother. "Dude, you're about to get coffee on your head. What'd you do now?"

Dean looked at Sam innocently. "What'd I do?" he asked with a small smirk on his face.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Chloe sat in the booth across from the brothers, reading over the articles they'd given her. "So we're looking for the people who've mysteriously vanished?"

"Yep," Dean replied, throwing her a flirtatious smile as he watched her read. It was nice to stretch out and face her for a change.

Rolling his eyes at his brother's casual attitude, Sam continued. "Apparently the disappearances have all occurred within three weeks of each other." Getting out the laptop, he booted it up and hit Google to search for patterns in the seemingly random vanishings.

"Hmm." She reread each of the articles twice more before laying them out on the table, not noticing the grin on Dean's face. "So other than the fact they live in Topeka...there's nothing connecting them at all?" She raised her eyebrows and looked at Sam for confirmation.

Sam frowned at the information he found online. "Doesn't seem to be," he replied with an even tone. "The victim's addresses are scattered throughout the city, although..." He whirled the laptop around and shoved it in Chloe's direction. "Notice where the victim's addresses are kinda close?"

She nodded slightly. "We should see if we can find anything at their houses that the cops may have missed."

"Definitely," Sam replied, smiling at her slightly as he look back the laptop and closed it.

"Can't go yet," Dean said, listening to everything they'd been saying, though he dug into the burger still sitting on his plate. "I'm not done eating yet. Besides, the disappearing act could just be that: an act."

"Perpetrated by five different victims." She gave him a look.

Dean returned that look with one of his own. "It's not unlike that shape shifter that went on that killing spree back in St. Louis. You remember it, Sam." He nudged his brother, but Sam merely looked at him and shook his head.

"Well, you're the one who insisted we come back to Kansas, so I'm assuming you think something's up," she replied, folding her arms on the table.

"Because that's what we do. We go where the jobs are," he replied, casually wiping his mouth. "But a man can't work on an empty stomach, so it was wait five minutes."

Shaking his head, Sam whispered, "Sure got your priorities straight, haven't ya?" Grabbing the laptop, he stood up.

Chloe watched Sam head out of the diner and walk toward the Impala. She looked back at Dean with raised eyebrows. "Nice job," she said with a faint smirk.

Eating the last of his burger, he looked at her, his eyes darkening with some emotion he didn't want to acknowledge. "Yep, I sure try," he smirked, pulling out his wallet and putting the money for the bill on the table. There used to be a time when Sam wouldn't take his snarky remarks so personally, but that was before...

He shook his head lightly, forcing those thoughts back as he stood up.

"Are we done here now?" she asked, a hint of mocking in her tone, a smirk on her face.

"It's never done," he told her cryptically, the dark look remaining. "But yeah, why else would I be standing, waiting for you?" Though his last comment was made with a lazy grin, his eyes remained untouched with brightness.

Chloe noticed, but said nothing of it. "Then let's go."

By the time Dean had followed Chloe out of the diner, Sam was in the driver's seat, his laptop open, his hands furiously clicking over the keys. His brow was furrowed in an intense stare. "Dude, get out of the driver's seat. I'm driving," Dean muttered, opening the door and motioning for Sam to scoot over.

Without looking at him, Sam moved out of the way. "Make sure Chloe gets in behind you," he said matter-of-factly.

Though he could have gone somewhere crass with that comment, Dean let it slide as he let Chloe get into the back before getting in himself.

"Which house we heading to first?" she asked, glancing at Sam as she fastened her seatbelt.

"1525 Roseland Avenue," he replied, staring at the map on the laptop. "It's where the first disappearance occurred."

Dean immediately started the Impala and sped out of the diner parking lot. "Roseland... isn't that near the downtown area?" he asked while they drove.

Sam nodded wordlessly, still a little irritated with his brother. How he could remain so nonchalant about everything at this time, he never could figure out.

Chloe's gaze remained on Sam for a moment, sensing something wasn't quite right, but not able to put her finger on it for the time being. "That was Dana Richards, right?" she asked, recalling the woman's name from the first article.

"Yeah. 28 years old. Single female, lived alone."

Dean chuckled a little. "You make it sound like she's looking for a date."

Sam turned and glared at his brother. "No, dude, I'm trying to give you the information necessary to find HER. You know that. Why are you being such an ass about this?" His voice was hard and distant.

Dean's cheek tensed with anger, but he remained silent. Trust Sam to bring up his best defense mechanism.

"Guys. This isn't helping." Chloe's voice was soft. "All right. The other victims ranged in ages from 18 to 32...two more women, and two men. All white, single. The 18 year old still lived at home, though."

"Aside from him, the others had something in common," Dean replied, his tone not betraying his anger and ignoring Chloe's remark. "They're all young, single, living alone. Except the kid, of course."

"You think maybe this is a cult of some kind?" Sam asked out loud, the idea coming to him in a flash. Literally. He suddenly slumped over in pain as images began shooting through his mind.

Noticing the change in Sam, Dean immediately pulled over. "Dude, what is it?" he asked in a worried tone.

"Sam?" There was worry in Chloe's voice and she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's happening?" she asked Dean.

"He's having a vision," Dean replied, not taking his eyes off Sam, who was convulsing.

As the pain subsided, Sam squinted with the massive headache he felt. "Oh God," he whispered, his face filled with pain.

"A vision," she murmured inaudibly. She kept her hand on his shoulder, not sure of what to do.

"It's a -- nevermind, I'll tell you later," Dean replied with a hiss, leaning over to Sam. "Sammy, what'd you see? You okay?"

"I would be if you give me a second to recover," Sam retorted, sitting up and breathing in deeply. "I saw... a woman..."

Chloe remained silent, feeling out of place as she bit down on her lower lip, waiting for Sam to continue.

Pinching his nose with two fingers, he said, "She's... there's something wrong with her."

"What?" Dean prompted softly.

"She's running from her apartment... something's after her..." Sam tried to get a good look at who or what was after the woman, but he couldn't. "Dammit," he sighed softly. "I think it's in the same apartment complex as Dana Richards."

Chloe leaned back in the seat, her mind turning over his words. Sam Winchester...was some kind of psychic.

The look on Chloe's face didn't escape Dean's notice, but he couldn't deal with that. Not right now. "Dude, you get an idea on her apartment number?"

"Uh... it was on the first floor," Sam replied. "She didn't go down any steps." He straightened up, his headache subsiding, his gaze deliberately avoiding Chloe's.

"That's good," Dean said, straightening himself and putting the car into drive. "Hopefully we'll get there in time to warn her. Maybe get some answers."

Remaining silent for the rest of the drive, Chloe climbed out of the backseat quietly when Dean stopped the Impala. Looking up at the apartment building, she let out a breath, feeling uneasy.

"Is this it?" Dean asked, looking sideways at Sam.

He nodded in response. "Look, you and Chloe go look for Dana Richard's apartment, and I'll try to find the girl in my... vision." He didn't dare look at Chloe since he didn't want to see the look on his face.

Throwing him a look, Dean said, "Looks like it's you and me, Chloe." He got out of the Impala to let her out.

She glanced at him sideways, then watched Sam head away. "He okay?" she asked, soft concern in her voice.

What a loaded question, Dean said to himself as he watched her get out of the car. "Yeah, he's fine," he simply said, then took off towards the front entrance. "What apartment did this chick Dana live in?"

Letting it go for now, Chloe glanced up. "Apartment 22 B."

Nodding, Dean led her into the front and managed to sneak past the guard on duty, an oversized cop who was taking his afternoon nap, Dean surmised. Taking the flight of stairs, they soon stood at 22 B, where Dean knelt down and started picking the lock.

She glanced down at him with a raised eyebrow, then shook her head a little as she pulled a small object from her purse. "Here. Try this instead," she said, handing him a paperclip.

Taking it from her, he looked at her uncertainly. "You telling me you can pick locks?"

"There's a whole lot I can do you don't know about," she informed him.

"Remind me to ask you about that sometime," he mumbled, using the paperclip to successfully pick the apartment door. Standing, he grabbed the doorknob and opened it.

She glanced around then quickly ducked inside behind him, flipping on the light and locking the door. The place certainly didn't give off any kind of bad vibes. Heading toward the kitchen, she watched as Dean went in the opposite direction.

The first place Dean went to was the bedroom. Stands to reason that if this chick disappeared on her own, she would have taken luggage with her. However, after a thorough perusal of the room, Dean found nothing unusual. Everything seemed to be in its place: no hangers strewn around or drawers pulled out. Even the suitcases were in the closet. Frowning, Dean left that room, heading for the living room.

Chloe found a stack of mail lying on the kitchen table, unopened. Phone bill, rent bill, cable bill, unopened church newsletter. Her eyebrows furrowing as she shifted through it, she took note of the date. Exactly two weeks ago on each. The same day she'd reportedly disappeared. Interesting.

Finding nothing in the living room that seemed out of place, Dean headed into the kitchen, where he saw Chloe standing with a curious look on her face. Not unlike Sam's when he thinks he's onto something. "You've found something," he remarked.

"She brought her mail in the day she disappeared."

Dean frowned as she showed him the postmarked dates on the bills. "So she was in here." He turned and looked around the room. "No sign of a break-in or struggle. Everything's... perfect." And that bothered him to no end.

"Maybe she just left." Her voice was quiet and she didn't meet his gaze as it occurred to her she'd done the very same thing.

"No, I don't think so," he replied, staring at her, though she wouldn't look at him. "Clothes are all hung in her closet, suitcases are in there as well. And look." He walked over to the edge of the kitchen and grabbed the set of keys off the key rack. "Looks like this is her apartment keys, car keys."

"So what's your theory?" Her eyebrows furrowed a little. "I mean, it doesn't seem like a kidnapping, either."

"No, it doesn't," he replied solemnly, looking around the room and starting to pace a little. "At this point, I have no theory. It could be anything from possession to a cult thing, like Sam had mentioned in the car."

Scratching his head, he looked perplexed and started wondering where his brother was.

"Maybe we should go find Sam."

"Okay, you have GOT to stop doing that," Dean replied, stopping and turning to look at her. "It's getting creepy."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry?"

"The whole 'speak what Dean's thinking' thing," he replied, feeling more than a little creeped out at the moment. "That's not the first time you've done that, you know."

"It's...not?" Chloe looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Sighing and turning away from her, he replied, "Never mind. We really should go and find Sam." He turned and headed for the hallway.

Watching him go, she sighed very softly and then followed, locking and closing the door behind her.

Dean felt that something was wrong with her. And it probably had to do with either him or Sam, he wasn't sure which. Pausing at the stairwell door, he turned suddenly and said, "What's your theory?"

"Not sure I have one yet," she admitted. "There wasn't a lot to go on. We should check out the other victims' homes."

Nodding, Dean turned back and started to twist the handle. Then turned back to her again. "Sam's got powers, okay?"

"I figured that out already," Chloe said softly, meeting his gaze.

"Don't be too worried about him, okay?" he said softly. "He gets intense about certain hunts, that's all." He opened the stairwell door and let her pass. The faint scent of Chloe's shampoo filled his nostrils, and he was briefly distracted by that smell.

She turned to look at him as she moved past. "But he's all right? That...vision looked...painful."

"Huh?" he said, her voice breaking through his reverie. "They're not all like that. Though...." He hesitated as she walked through the door and he followed, shutting it behind him.

"They've gotten worse since he started having them?" she guessed.

Dean said nothing, just nodded silently as they made their way downstairs. "It's actually a long story, Sammy's visions." And not one he wanted to tell her about at that time. His dark eyes pierced hers, boring holes into her head. And again, those green eyes threatened to overcome him.

"I'm sure it is," Chloe said softly, holding his gaze. Not sure why, she reached out and touched his arm lightly. "We should...find him."

Her touch nearly made him jump; the electricity of her fingers on his arm almost scared him. "Yeah," he said, turning his head quickly and stepping away so she couldn't see the look in his eyes. He started down the stairs to the first floor.

Her green eyes dark, she slowly followed him, sensing something was off with him, but knowing he wasn't going to share anytime soon. Not that she could blame him. It wasn't like she'd been very forthcoming with information on her own life. They barely knew each other. As they reached the first floor, she spotted Sam down the hallway.

Sam stood out in the middle of the hallway, near the end of the hall, his face downtrodden and worried. That look alone told Dean that not only had he found the apartment from his vision, but the girl in question was, in fact, gone. "Sam," he said quietly as he walked up to him.

"She's gone," Sam replied, not looking up at Dean. "By the time I found the place... she was..." His face drew inward, so he couldn't finish his words.

"Is the apartment...normal?" Chloe asked after a moment's hesitation, feeling like she was intruding on something that was none of her business. "Or did it look like it's been ransacked?"

Sam looked up at Chloe, a little startled. "No, it looked normal," he said quietly.

"It was the same with Dana Richard's apartment," Dean said quietly, sneaking a look at Chloe.

"So someone's chasing these people out of their apartments," Sam concluded, thinking about the flashes he'd had in the car. "Why?"

"Let's check out this other girl's apartment," she suggested softly, heading toward the door he'd come away from.

Sam looked at her curiously. "Why? What did you find in the other apartment?" He indicated the girl's apartment, 14A, with his hand.

"Nothing, really," she admitted. "We probably won't find anything, but..." She shrugged a little, kneeling down and quickly picking the lock with the same paperclip she'd let Dean use earlier.

Sam watched with some amusement that Chloe could pick a lock better than his brother could. He leaned in to Dean. "Did you know she could do that?"

Dean, staring in near wonder, replied, "Hell no, I didn't know. Should have thought about it, considering I used THAT to pick the lock." He pointed at the paperclip she put back into her purse as she opened the door.

Bemused, the Winchester boys entered the apartment behind Chloe, wondering what other illegal activities she knew about.

She flipped the light on, not expecting to find much of anything that would help them out. Moving into the apartment, she paused as she saw a stack of mail on the kitchen table. An eerie sense of deja vu washed over her as she picked up the unopened envelopes and began to flip through them, unaware of the guys.

"What'd you find?" Dean asked, feeling like he'd done all this before. In the other apartment. The stack of mail on the table, he realized quickly.

"Huh." Chloe leaned against the table, removing one piece of mail and setting the rest back down. "This is the same church newsletter that was in Dana's apartment." Not hesitating, she broke the seal and opened it.

Seeing her drop the envelope onto the table, Sam picked it up and read the return address. "Woodsboro Baptist Church. Huh. Maybe they both went to the same church?" He asked, puzzled but suddenly nervous.

"Something about this place..." She read over the first page of the newsletter. "God, I'm an idiot." She rolled her eyes in disgust, her fingers tightening around the newsletter slightly in annoyance.

"What is it?" Dean asked again, trying to take the paper from her hands. Unfortunately, her grip was so tight that he nearly rendered the thing in two. "Chloe..."

"Woodsboro Baptist Church. You guys heard of it?" There was anger in her eyes as she turned to look at them.

"Woodsboro Ba-" Dean began, then stopping as he realized what they were dealing with. Humans, acting like morons. "Dammit," he whispered, looking over at Sam.

"I was right, wasn't I?" Sam asked slowly. "They're a cult."

Her jaw was tense. "They go around and they protest at funerals of dead soldiers," she said angrily, recalling how they'd done just that at Whitney's funeral a few years ago.

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "Why would anyone want to do that?" he asked quietly, wondering whether these people who were missing had, in fact, just taken it upon themselves to leave because this... "church"... told them to. But it didn't explain the thing he saw in his vision...

"I'm thinking you've had a run-in with them," Dean said slowly, looking at Chloe's angry face and wondering if she had known a soldier.

"Unfortunately." She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her tone. "The sick part is it's within their legal rights to protest." She looked at Sam. "Apparently it's all because in the United States we allow homosexual people to have basic human rights instead of stringing them up and having them killed for being who they are."

"And these people believe we as a country are probably going to hell because of that," Sam replied, looking at her, seeing the unrest in her eyes. "So if we're dealing with... well, should I say people?... then what was that thing I saw chasing the girl out of her apartment?"

"You know these cultist groups," Dean replied, his face grave. "For all we know, they've used their message as an excuse to raise some spirit to help them exact revenge." His eyes darkened at Chloe's barely contained rage. This was quickly becoming personal for her, and that could prove a liability if she wasn't careful. "Let's get outta here and find a place to hunker down."

Tucking the newsletter into her purse, she headed out the door without waiting for either of them, her mind on the day of Whitney's burial.

Dean and Sam left the apartment, shutting the door behind them quietly, so as not to arouse suspicion. They were both silent as they followed Chloe to the car. Once they got in, Dean started the Impala and said, "There's a hotel about a mile from here."

"Sounds fine to me," Sam replied, staring out the window, lost in thought.

Chloe didn't reply, her entire body tense and her breathing slightly uneven as she stared out the window, as well. She wasn't sure exactly how they were accomplishing it, but this so-called church was behind the disappearances of these individuals. She could feel it in every bone in her body. She just had to find a way to prove it.


	3. Chapter 3

Three hours later, at the cheapest Super 8 in town, Sam was at the laptop, searching for information on anything that would give him a better idea of what they were dealing with. And what he found troubled him to no end. Though they might have been human, it was only because their hearts were beating, Sam thought grimly, looking at the Woodsboro Baptist Church website. "Dude, they are hardcore zealots," he said out loud, hoping Dean was paying attention. His brother had been very quiet since they'd left the apartment complex.

Dean, meanwhile, was scouring through Dad's journal, hoping for something that might point to what this group of whackos had unleashed. He hadn't really looked at these notes since John's death, and he was fighting hard to keep a lid on his surge of anger. Dad was dead, and he was still so pissed about it. "I'd say they were more than that," he replied, looking up at the connecting door to Chloe's room. "She's been quiet, holed up in there."

In her room, Chloe was carefully reading each hate filled sentence of the church's website, barely able to tamp down her anger and choke it back enough to keep reading. The more she read, the more convinced she became that these people had to be stopped. Her jaw clenched as she read of their plans to protest at the funeral of some dead school children who'd died in a bus accident in another state.

After nearly three hours, she had to forcefully push herself away from the computer or risk throwing it into the wall. Forcing herself to take a couple deep breaths to calm down, she moved to the door connecting her room to the guys' and knocked.

"You gonna get that?" Sam asked, hiding the smile that curled around his face as he hunkered down behind his laptop.

Dean frowned, still staring at the connecting door. "Me? Why do I always have to answer it?" Though he was joking, his voice was still hard as nails.

"Because you need to get her to open up and talk to you, man," he replied. "She was about to blow a gasket in the car, and how much you wanna bet she's been reading up on this church?"

Sighing, Dean stood up. "You'd win, so I ain't taking that bet." He crossed the room and opened the door, seeing Chloe standing there, her eyes nearly red with anger. "Hey," he whispered.

"Find anything?" she asked instantly, her body still tense.

"Only that these people are actually more like the monsters we hunt and kill," Dean replied flatly, nodding towards Sam, who was still researching. "He's been on their website, telling me about the crap they do." He saw her face pale and grew worried about her again.

"Me too," she admitted, glancing over at Sam. Folding her arms across her chest, she looked up at Dean once more. "I need to go out for awhile, so I'm gonna call a cab. I'll be back in a couple hours."

"I'll go with you," he replied, looking down at her. "I need some air, too."

"You up for some shopping?" Chloe raised an eyebrow.

Leaning against the doorjamb, he grinned mischievously. "Depends on what you're shopping for," he said, trying to do something to make the atmosphere less oppressive.

She smirked at the look on his face. "I think I could use some new clothes."

Dean kept the smile on his face. "Yeah, you need something else to wear aside from what you're wearing now." Standing upright, he grabbed his jacket. "No need to call a cab. I'll drive."

"Great. I'll just grab my purse." She ducked back into her room, grabbed her purse from her bed and followed him toward the door.

With a smile still on his face, welcoming the distraction of something... simple, Dean looked at Sam. "I'm taking Chloe shopping."

Sam looked up and stared at Dean as if he'd grown horns. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" he mocked slightly.

Frowning, he shot Sam a look. "Shut up, dude. This is my chance to... get her to talk, okay?"

Sighing, a knowing smirk on his face, Sam said, "Okay, just remember, women generally don't like red lacy underwear."

"And you'd know that because you wear them?" Dean snarked back as he stepped between the connecting doors and shut it behind him.

Sighing, Sam whispered, "Because Jess told me." With her on his mind, he focused once again on the research he wanted to finish.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Chloe tucked some blonde hair behind her ear, sifting through the rack of dresses in front of her as Dean watched with a nonplussed look on his face. She wasn't quite finding what she was looking for and her eyebrows furrowed as she moved onto the next rack.

Watching her fuss through rack after rack of clothing, Dean now understood why men did NOT go shopping with their girlfriends and wives. It was... boring, he thought with a small smirk on his face. It wasn't like she was asking for his help, though he had enjoyed watching the look on her face when she thought she'd found something decent to wear and put it against her body to see if it'd fit.

But he could tell there was something still bothering her about earlier today. She was still angry and was using shopping as an excuse to ignore it. Compound that with the fact that he still knew nothing about her life before they'd found her on the side of the road, and there was a problem. He just didn't know how to ask her about it.

She spotted a rather demure looking blue dress with white flowers on it and grinned. "Bingo." She held it up in triumph. "Be right back." She headed for the dressing room, not noticing the disbelief on his face.

"Women," Dean grumbled with a sigh, waiting for Chloe to try on the dress. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the fitting room door, having nothing better to look at.

A moment later she appeared, wearing the very conservative dress, a sweet smile on her face. "What do you think?"

Dean's face fell, his expression one of awe, as he stared at her. Despite the fact that it showed very little skin, the dress clung just enough to her curves to make a man wonder what she was hiding underneath it. Swallowing hard, he rasped, "It's... pretty." He lifted his eyes to hers and stared at her.

"I think it's a good church dress, don't you?"

His eyes darkened, forgetting about how good she looked. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped in a low voice, so as not to attract attention.

"Infiltration," she answered, disappearing into the dressing room once more. When she reappeared once more, she was back in her regular clothes, the dress slung over her arm.

"Are you insane?" he demanded, following her to the checkout stand. He watched as she put the dress on the counter and greeted the cashier. "Don't you know how dangerous that's going to be?"

She didn't look at him as the cashier rang up the purchase and she paid quickly with a wad of cash. She led him out the door and toward the Impala. "Yep."

Dean grabbed Chloe's arm just before she could get into the Impala. "I'm not going to let you do this, Chloe. I don't care how pissed you are right now." He shook his head emphatically.

She looked at him with intense eyes. "You can't stop me," she informed him, shrugging out of his grasp. "Someone has to get in there and find out exactly what's going on. And somehow I don't think they'd buy the church going routine from you or Sam."

Keeping a firm grip on her arm, he glared at her. "Fine, but you're going to calm down before you do anything. We need to plan this thing out before you go on your own personal crusade."

"Fine," she agreed, holding his gaze.

Loosening his grip, Dean stepped away from her. "Fine," he whispered. "Let's get outta here. Hungry?"

"A little," Chloe admitted, climbing into the passenger seat of his car and fastening her seatbelt.

"Great, we'll stop for something to eat before going back to the hotel," he said with a grim smile. He got in and started the car, racing off to the first fast food place he could find. The ride was silent and deafening. Dean could feel Chloe's resolve and the anger that lay just underneath. "Why are you so pissed?" he asked hesitantly.

Staring out the window, she was silent for a long moment. "A few years ago...an acquaintance was killed overseas." Her jaw tightened. "These people had the nerve to show up at his funeral and harass his mother and his girlfriend, telling them he was burning in hell."

Dean hammered on the gas in frustration. "Bastards," he whispered in response. "Who are they to judge?" He glanced over at her.

"They're sick. What they do is immoral, and if our suspicions are correct, also illegal."

Dean felt the anger rolling off her lips. And it actually scared him a little. He nodded silently, his eyes focused on the street as he pulled into a McDonald's parking lot. Gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles where white, he said, "Yeah, Sam told me about what they posted on their site." He got out quickly.

She climbed out of the car and followed him toward the entrance. "We coulda just gone through the drive thru."

Dean sighed. "Obviously it hasn't occurred to you that I'd like to get to you know," he whispered almost inaudibly as he held the door open for her.

Barely catching his words, Chloe looked up at him with surprise on her face. "Oh," she whispered back.

Dean was silent, ordering something for both of them and taking her to a booth once he got their order. Sitting down, he looked at her intently. "Is that so strange?" he asked flatly.

She looked down at the table, taking a small sip of her coke. "It is if you're me."

"Tell me why." He munched on a fry, never taking his eyes off her.

"Because in my experience...people only want to know if you they want something from you."

Leaning back into his seat, Dean smirked. "My, aren't we a cynic?" Truth was, he really DID want to get to know this woman better. He was just at a loss on how to break down her tightly woven barrier.

She shrugged. "It's only cynical if it's not the truth." She looked up at him and met his eyes.

Leaning in, he smiled at her a little. "Who says it's the truth? You? Because I don't see it that way."

"No? How do you see it?" she asked quietly.

Leaning back in his chair, he continued looking at her. "I see a really pretty girl who is angry for some unknown reason. She's not afraid, because she's on the road with two strange guys." One kinda likes her, he thought to himself but didn't dare let that out. "She likes to research and go after anything that she thinks is evil and unjust. How am I doing?" His grin widened at the doubtful look her face.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Not bad."

Dean smiled, digging into his burger and saying nothing for a few moments. Watching her smile, and knowing he'd made her smile, was a lot.... even though Sam would probably still give him grief about it. Especially since he knew deep down that he could do better than that. Somehow, though, he sensed Chloe was not like the other women he'd flirted with. She was... special, somehow. And he fully intended to find out everything about her.

She reached over and stole one of his fries, a playful smile on her lips as she popped it into her mouth. "And what about you?" She leaned her elbows on the table and gazed at him intently.

"What about me?" he flirted back, watching her take another of his fries.

"Well, you definitely fit the overprotective older brother role." She grinned at the surprised look on his face. "But you're not like other guys." Her voice softened a little.

"Observant, I like that," he replied after a moment. His face fell, however, and he looked down, taking a long drink out of his cup. "No, I'm not," he admitted. "I'm more twisted that other guys."

Chloe gazed at him. "Well, with what you do...how can you not be?"

Looking up at her, he smiled wryly. "Gee, thanks," he said, his voice low and soft.

"I never said it was a bad thing." Another smile quirked her lips. "I happen to like twisted."

"Then you're with the right guy," he replied, his smile not meeting his eyes. "I'm about as twisted as they come." Thoughts of his father came back to him and he literally blinked them back. Now was NOT the time to think about that, he said silently.

She felt the shift in his mood and rested her chin on one hand. "I'm a good listener." Her voice was very soft.

"I'll remember that when I want to talk," he said softly. "I... can't. Not now. I'd rather hear about you." He suddenly became shy, if such a thing was possible. God, when did Dean Winchester become so tongue-tied around a woman?

Chloe drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "Then I guess we're gonna have to find some neutral topic because… I'm not ready to either," she admitted.

"Fair enough," he said after a moment. "Let's talk about the weather." Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he said, "I don't.. do small talk."

A faint smile touched her lips. "Somehow I didn't think you did." She stole another fry from him and munched on it, thinking.

As much as he wanted to know what she was thinking about, he knew she wasn't going to tell him. Maybe she never would, and that didn't sit right with him. But isn't it a two-way street? a sudden thought hit his mind. To hear, you have to speak first. He took another bite of his burger and chewed slowly, letting that thought sink in. He and Sam had barely started dealing with Dad's death: how could he explain that to her?

She took a sip of her coke, nearly jumping out of the booth when her cell phone rang inside her purse. Startled at the shattered silence, she reached in and looked at the Caller ID. The smile slipped from her face, her eyes darkening with anger and hurt as she pushed the ignore button, letting him get her voicemail. She tucked the phone back in her purse.

Dean watched Chloe's face with quite a lot of interest. "I take it that's someone you don't want to talk to," he said, finishing his meal.

"You could say that," she said shortly, picking up her tray and dumping the rest of her meal in the trash can, having lost her appetite.

He stood up and dumped the rest of the meal in the trash before turning to her. "That'd be someone from that past you don't want to talk about, huh?" He pulled out his keys, not able to look at her.

A bitter smile touched her lips. "Good guesser."

Holding the door open for her, Dean walked around and unlocked the Impala, opening the door for her to get in. "Ex-boyfriend, I'm betting," he said casually, moving over to the driver's side.

"Good thing you didn't bet money," she responded, sliding into the passenger seat.

"I would have lost, huh?" he asked, casually again this time, as he got in and shut the door. Starting the Impala again, he pulled out of the parking lot and turned on some of his favorite classic rock.

"Big time," Chloe whispered, turning to stare out the passenger window, hoping the music would drown out the thoughts in her head.

After a couple tense moments of silence, Dean sighed. "What did you have in mind about infiltrating this wacko-ass church group," he said, turning the music down a bit.

"I figured I'd start by attending Sunday morning services. Pretending to be new in town."

With that dress she'd just bought, he mused, she'd probably fit right in. Well, kind of. For some insane reason, he liked it. "You think you can play the 'holier than thou' act around those people?" he chuckled.

Chloe smirked and turned her head to look at him. "I'm a good liar."

"Not as good as me," he retorted with a smile.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see then, won't we?"

"Care to bet on that?" he said, looking over at her.

Chloe smirked. "What do you have in mind?"

"You're not going into that church alone. Sam or I will have to go, and I for one think it should be me." His voice was hard with resolve.

"You can't," she told him, leaning back in the seat. "The pattern is people who live alone and who don't appear to have any friends or family nearby."

"Who said I was gonna know you?" he said firmly.

"Don't you think it might seem suspicious if two new people show up on the same day?"

"So you get to play Super Girl while Sam and me wait for you?" he snapped. "I don't think so. Last time we had a girl with us..." His voice drifted off as he thought briefly of Jo and how they'd nearly gotten her killed. All because she wanted to do things her way.

"I'm not your ordinary girl," she said darkly, staring out the window once more.

"Neither was Jo, and her stubborn streak nearly got her killed," he said, his voice gruff from anger and frustration.

"Fine. So go to church. But don't blow my cover." There was more than a hint of annoyance in her tone.

"Right, because the thing that's chasing these people out of their apartments might not want to take you then," he declared angrily, screeching into the hotel parking lot and getting out of the car.

"Exactly," she whispered, climbing out of the passenger seat and heading for her own room.

Dean didn't bother to see if Chloe was going to her room. He was so angry, he could punch a hole in the wall. Unlocking his own door, he entered the hotel room and slammed it behind him, the noise reverberating throughout the room for several seconds.

Sam, startled by the sudden noise, looked up from the laptop, where he'd been the entire time, and looked at Dean. "Dude, what are you doing?"

"Chloe... she..." Dean tried to speak but couldn't.

"She what?" He shook his head, baffled at his brother's sudden speechless anger.

"She thinks she's going to get into this damn church group," Dean managed to get out, his frustration with the woman nearly choking him. "She thinks she's going to solve this by herself!" He paced around the room, his mind whirling.

Sam stared at him wide-eyed. "Is she crazy?"

Not looking at his brother, Dean continued walking around the room. "Yeah, and likes twisted men, too." He was too into his own mind to see the look on Sam's face.

"Deadly combo," Sam mumbled, wiping a hand over his face.

"Yeah," he replied, slowing his pacing. "Got any bright ideas on how to stop her? She wants to do this on her own, and if your vision is right, something's going to get her." He knew he sounded worried, but he didn't care.

He let out a breath, leaning back in his chair and thinking. "I'm not sure infiltrating this place is a bad idea. I'm just...not sure she's the one who should do it."

"I told her the same thing, man, but she wouldn't listen." He released some pent up breath and looked at Sam. "Think you're up to it? You're clean cut and fanatic about certain things."

"Gee, thanks," he said wryly, giving his brother a look. "Better me than her."

Running a hand through his hair, Dean sighed. "That's not what I meant, Sammy. I'm just thinking if she's hell-bent on going in there, one of us needs to be there with her. To keep an eye out for her. You seem a more reasonable choice, dude." Besides, she didn't seem to want him around, he mused with a frown.

"I know what you meant." Sam rose to his feet. "And I agree. I don't think she should be alone with those people."

"Can you talk to her?" he asked Sam. "She might listen to you. She's... not an open one."

"I've noticed," he admitted, letting out a breath. "I'll see what I can do." He headed for the door that connected their rooms.

"Someone called her while we were eating, and she didn't answer it," Dean pointed out to Sam. "I think... it was someone she's running from. It's not a boyfriend, but... I think this person was close to her." He didn't know why he felt the need to share that information, but surely if Chloe decided to be open with someone, it'd be with Sam.

Sam just nodded, knocking on the connecting door softly and hoping Chloe would open the door.

A moment later, she did just that, looking up with slight surprise--she clearly hadn't expected it to be Sam knocking. She regarded him warily. "What's up? Did you find something?"

"You could say that," Sam replied, smiling faintly. "Mind if I come in?"

She stepped aside, moving to sit down at the small desk across the room as he shut the door. "What'd you find?" she asked, her eyes lit up with curiosity.

Taking a deep breath, he turned around and sat at the table with her. "Not too much more than what you found on their website," he replied. "But funny thing... Dean told me something very interesting about you." He gazed at her with what he hoped was a neutral gaze.

Her jaw tightened and she folded her arms across her chest, resolve clear on her face. "You're not gonna talk me out of it, Sam."

"I don't want to talk you out of it, Chloe," he replied softly. "I think it's a good idea. I just don't think you should go in there alone. I agree with Dean on that one." He saw her face harden and knew this was going to take a little while.

"Because I'm a girl?"

"Because of that thing I saw chasing the latest victim out of her apartment," he replied, ignoring her remark. "If we both join the church and pretend to be one of them, at least if anything weird happens, we'll have backup."

She looked away. "What exactly *did* you see?"

Sam shifted in his seat, looking at his hands sadly. "The girl... she was running out of her apartment. I can't see exactly what was after her, but... it was shaped like a man, whatever it was." Funny, he thought suddenly, how the pursuer didn't FEEL evil.

She let out a breath, glancing at him. "So you're thinking it's some kind of demon or evil spirit?"

He shook his head. "That's the weird part. I... don't think it is." He looked at her uncertainly.

Chloe's eyebrows furrowed as she met his gaze. "So...then...what?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "All I know is that it isn't evil." He put a hand on his face, realizing he hadn't even told Dean this yet. He'd been so worked up over Chloe that he never had the chance.

"Sam, are you all right?" Her voice was quiet, laced with concern as she gazed at him.

"Yeah, I just realized..." Sam chuckled a little. "Dean doesn't even know what I just told you. He's pretty wound up, you know." He stared at her, a knowing look on his face.

"Yeah, he's kinda high-strung, isn't he?"

"Only when he's really intense about something... or someone."

She shifted her gaze away from his, not wanting to think about that right now. "He shouldn't be."

Leaning back in his seat, Sam smiled again. "Kinda too late for that, Chloe. You've gotten his attention, whether either of you wanted it or not."

She was silent for a moment, then looked back at him, a deep well of sadness and pain in her eyes. "Then maybe I should take off."

"So I can watch Dean brood over you?" Sam asked, concern mirrored in his eyes. "Why, do you want to leave?"

"No," she admitted after a moment. "But sometimes it's easier to just preemptively save yourself the trouble."

Shaking his head, he replied, "And in no way do you sound like Dean right there." He watched her closely, wondering who had hurt her to make such a cynical comment. "Saving yourself the trouble means you'll remain alone the rest of your life. You sure you want that?"

Chloe offered him a wry smile. "Why fight the inevitable?"

Sam shrugged. "Whether it's inevitable or not, sometimes it's worth the risk." He thought about Jessica and smiled over the time they had together.

"And sometimes it's not," she said quietly, a hint of finality in her tone. "So tomorrow we go to church?"

Standing, Sam frowned but said nothing. Except to think they she was more tight-lipped than his brother. "Sure," he said. "We won't enter the church together, however. I'll come in after you, so... you'll need to get a cab or something to get to the church."

"No problem. You probably shouldn't take the Impala, either. Too easy to track."

Grinning, Sam replied, "I don't see Dean parting with his first love to let me to go church anyway." He winked at her, trying to make his departure light.

Chloe smiled faintly. "I'll see you in the morning then."

"Alright." Sam walked to the connecting door and paused before opening it. "Chloe?" he asked.

"Yeah?" She glanced over at him as she paused in her tracks on the way to the bathroom.

"My brother's a good man," he said softly. "He's a pain, but he's worth your time and trouble." Pulling the door open, he whispered, "He'll keep your secrets and maybe help you overcome them."

Chloe's shoulders slumped a little. "I don't doubt that, Sam," she whispered. "I just doubt I am." Without waiting for him to respond, she disappeared into the bathroom.

Sam shook his head. "You're wrong, Chloe," he whispered to himself. "You just don't see it yet." He moved across the connecting door and into their room without another word.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Dude, you look like a man in black," Dean commented with a smirk as he watched Sam straighten his tie the next morning.

Sam just threw him a look. "I have to fit the part, don't I? It's bad enough I have to pay for a cab to get to this place."

"Hey, it'd be suspicious if your drove up in the Impala. That'd cause too much of a stir with these... people," he retorted, a little jealous that Sam was going with Chloe and he wasn't. He was so deep in thought over the events of today that he didn't notice Chloe open the connecting door and walk in.

She was wearing the same dress she'd bought with him there the day before, and this time her blonde hair was pulled back into a softly flowing ponytail. She wasn't wearing any makeup or jewelry except a watch and a cross. "You about ready?" she asked Sam.

Nodding, Sam smiled at her. "You look... appropriate," he said. "I'm going to call the cabs, okay? Meet me outside in a few?" Giving Dean a look, he strode outside to make the call on his cell.

Dean just stared at her. Despite her clean face, he thought she looked like an angel. Looking her up and down, he couldn't say anything.

She felt his gaze on her and turned to look at him. "Do I look...okay?" she asked uncertainly. "Do I look the part?"

When he realized he was staring, he looked away from her. "Uh, yeah... you look fine," he said in an even tone. Truth was, he thought she looked beautiful. The most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

The distance in his voice didn't go unnoticed and she sighed very softly, inaudibly. He was apparently still pissed about last night. "Dean..."

"You're going to be late," he replied, still not looking at her. Not daring to, for fear of what he'd do if he did.

"I'm sorry you're still pissed." Her voice was soft and she headed out the door without waiting for a response.

"I'm not pissed," he replied, giving into his need to look at her as he took several steps and gently grabbed her arm. "It's done, that's all. I just..." He shook his dark head, lowering his eyes.

"Don't worry. I'll keep Sam safe." She winked at him.

Looking up at her with intense eyes, he muttered, "Keep yourself safe." Moving close to her, he put his free hand on her other arm and looked down at her.

The breath caught in her throat and for a moment she was sure he was about to kiss her.

Dean wondered what her lips would taste like, how they would move against his gently. But her wide-eyed look told him she was more scared of what he might do. And that was not his intention. Reluctantly, he pulled away, stepping back from her, blinking back the need he felt. "Keep an eye on Sam while you're at it, okay?" he said gruffly.

"Of course," she whispered, her heart hammering in her chest, her mind swirling with confusion that didn't clear with the honking of the taxi.

She looked as unsettled as he felt, and he didn't know whether to be happy or depressed about that. "Chloe..." He began, unsure of what to say.

"I should...the cab's here. I'll...see you later," she whispered, turning and heading away.

No, he wasn't going to let it go. As if possessed, he closed the distance between them, swirled her around, and kissed her soundly on her lips.

For a moment she was too shocked to respond. Her instincts took over before her mind could and she felt herself kissing him back with something akin to desperation. And it scared the hell out of her. She broke away from him, trembling. And without a word, bolted toward the cab before he could stop her.

He watched her practically sprint out the door and hung his head. What he felt from her was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. It shook him to the core. From the opened door, he watched her get into the waiting cab and wondered what he had done and if she would ever look at him again.


	4. Chapter 4

Chloe didn't dare even venture a glance at Sam as she moved to sit in one of the middle pews in the fairly large church. There weren't very many people despite the size of the church--there was maybe fifty by the time the sermon was starting. Glancing around to try and see if any of the missing people were there, she didn't recognize anyone, but several people regarded her with a hint of suspicion. She simply smiled and ducked her head, pretending to be shy.

Sam had never been in such a stuffy place in all his life. He tugged briefly at his tie as he quickly scanned the mostly empty church, trying very hard to drown out the screaming preacher at the podium, ranting and raving about the evils of the United States and how every single bad thing that had happened in the last several years was because of disobedience.

Aside from a few glances from the congregation, Sam didn't recognize anyone. Except Chloe, that was. He couldn't help but notice how shy she acted, her game face hiding her fear of something else. Something that had undoubtedly happened between her and Dean, he figured. Sighing slightly, he forced himself to look up at the preacher and pretend to listen intently, even though he felt his ears might bleed at any moment.

Forcing thoughts of Dean and Clark and Jimmy and Lois from her mind, Chloe focused best she could, nodding slightly in pretend agreement with the preacher, whose gaze focused on her after a few moments. She felt her blood run cold.

Sam watched the preacher's eyes zero in on Chloe and almost physically shudder. As it was, he felt all the color drain from his face as he wondered what part the preacher might have had in all these disappearances. Suddenly, as if on queue, the preacher turned his cold, pasty blue eyes on Sam, boring mental holes into his head.

Chloe watched the preacher's gaze shift and knew without turning to look he was now staring hard at Sam. Probably sizing him up, as well. Determining if he would make a good addition to his sick little cult.

Sam stared at the preacher, trying to look humble but deep down inside knowing he was being sized up. He pasted a small, timid smile on his face as if to complete agree with what the preacher was saying. Still, several moments passed before the preacher looked away from him.

And focused back on Chloe, moving off the pulpit and down the aisle to stand only a few feet away from her, seeming to speak directly to her and her alone as he spoke of sinners and burning in hell.

For a second, Sam honestly thought their cover had been blown, that somehow, the preacher had seen right through either Chloe or himself. Fortunately, the man continued his path up the aisle, though he lingered by the row Chloe sat in. It took everything in him not to get up and punch the guy.

Chloe looked up at him with something between a frightened and admiring look, feeling sick to her stomach as he remained standing so close.

Sam kept his eyes on the preacher as he stared at Chloe before moving away... and heading towards him. The old man's cold, emotionless blue eyes settled back on him, making him inwardly cringe. It was a good thing Dean wasn't here, he thought, frowning inwardly. His brother didn't have the poker face for something this intense.

All the while the preacher kept his eyes on Sam, he droned on about sinners and disobedience. About how God punishes all sinners. Sam honestly believed he was speaking to him at the moment.

Chloe shuddered involuntarily as the man moved away from her. There was something about him that was downright frightening. And not much scared Chloe Sullivan.

The sermon couldn't end soon enough, Sam realized. The preacher's incessant droning was starting to make him angry. And the way he kept his eyes on Chloe bothered him even more. As the congregation began to disperse, he couldn't wait to get outside to breathe in the free air again.

As the sermon finally ended, Chloe remained sitting in her seat, knowing Sam was going to get upset when he realized there was more to her plan than simply sitting through the service.

Sam slipped out of his seat, trying hard not to look at Chloe. He did notice she was still sitting there and briefly wondered why she was still there, but when a few greeters approached him to play twenty questions, he was forced to put all thoughts of Chloe behind as he put on his game face to speak with them.

Chloe felt the preacher moving back toward her since she didn't turn around to see him. I can do this, she told herself. She'd dealt with much more frightening things in her short life.

With a cold, polite smile on his face, Pastor Frank greeted the female he had seen in the congregation. Pretty little thing, he thought, watching her turn around. "My name is Pastor Frank Jones. Welcome to our humble congregation."

"Hello, Pastor," she said in a very soft voice, a cold chill running down her spine. "I'm Chloe."

Nodding to her condescendingly, he replied smoothly, "So nice to meet you, Chloe. I hope that our message has reached you and has cleansed you of all your sins."

"How do I know for sure?" Chloe asked with a worried expression.

"There's only one way to know for sure," he replied, taking a step closer to her. "You must accept obedience through the Lord our God, who is the ONLY one to obey. Once that happens, you'll be filled with the love that the Lord can provide."

The closer the man got the sicker with dread Chloe felt. She suddenly wasn't so sure she could do this after all. Swallowing hard, she nodded slightly, her heart rate picking up a bit.

"Will we be seeing you at the service this evening?" Pastor Frank said with a casual smile. "We always have a dinner beforehand to plan the various meetings and protests we have around the country."

"I'd love to come back," she said before she could stop herself. "I'm new in town, and...I don't really know anyone here. I don't really have any family or friends..." What the hell was she doing? That was way too much information.

Taking her hand, he smiled gently at her. "We can be your family, Chloe. We are such a tightly woven group of people, completely devoted to the Lord Our God, keeping ourselves as removed from the rest of this evil-ridden world as possible. We'd be happy to have you in the fold."

For some reason she suddenly felt like crying. Tears welled in her eyes as she gazed up at him.

"There, there, my child," the pastor crooned, trying to hug her. "All will be well. Come back tonight and you shall see."

It was about that time that Sam happened to look away from the small crowd and saw the preacher moving physically close to Chloe. He wanted to punch through the group and grab her, but he refrained, knowing she could handle herself.

"Thank you," she murmured, feeling confused and sick. "I'll be back tonight."

"I sincerely hope so," he replied, briefly noticing the young man he'd noticed during the service looking their way. Ignoring that, he smiled and moved away.

She watched him go, swallowing hard and then slowly turning to head toward the door, feeling overwhelmed.

Sam tried very hard not to pay attention to Chloe as she quickly left the church and wished to heaven he could go with her. However, he was forced to wait until she had already gotten into her taxi and left. In the meantime, he had to listen to the endless droning of how sinners are going to hell. It was nearly thirty minutes before Sam found himself standing outside their hotel room again.

By that time, Chloe had already locked herself in her motel room, and curled up in bed beneath the covers, shivering involuntarily.

Rather than going into his room, Sam knocked on Chloe's door, hoping she'd answer.

Closing her eyes, she willed him to just go away.

"Chloe," he said through the door. "Please let me in."

"I don't really wanna talk right now, Sam."

"Chloe, if you don't let me in, I'm going to have to deal with Dean. And I promise you he's going to break in the door after what I saw."

Forcing herself to sit up, she let out a sigh of frustration and moved toward the door, yanking it open.

Sam walked inside without invitation, turning as she shut the door. "Can I just ask what you were doing, talking to that guy?" he asked softly, not wanting to alert Dean to the fact that they were back yet.

"Just sitting there listening to that crap isn't gonna get us very far," she told him, not meeting his gaze.

Running a hand through his hair, he said, "You could've warned me before you decided to talk to that... guy." If it really WAS a guy, Sam thought with a rueful smile.

"I knew you'd protest."

"Because I knew that guy was genuinely creepy," he snapped back. Crossing his arms, he said, "What'd you find out?"

"I'm going back tonight," she admitted quietly.

Sam stared, startled and surprised. "Alone?" he whispered. Oh, Dean's going to have an anuerism, he thought.

"He invited me back." Chloe finally lifted her gaze to meet his. "Which is good. That was the plan," she said softly. "Maybe I can get some answers."

"Yes, that was the plan," he agreed. "But you're not supposed to go alone." He crossed his arms, knowing deep down inside that her going alone was a truly bad idea. Even if Chloe COULD take care of herself.

"Did you get an invite back?" she asked quietly, gazing at him.

"As it happens... yes, I did," he replied with a shudder. "By a rather large woman who kept looking at me like she wanted to marry me off to her daughter." He made a face.

A short chuckle escaped her involuntarily.

"Very funny," he replied with a smirk, though the smile on Chloe's face did not reflect in her eyes. "That guy really got to you, didn't he?" he asked suddenly.

"There was something about him," she admitted softly, sitting down on the bed. "Charismatic."

"If that's another word for creepy, then, yeah, he has loads of it," he replied, looking at her carefully. This guy had touched something very personal in Chloe, he realized with a start. That scared him deeply.

Chloe let out a slow breath, reaching up and rubbing the back of her neck.

"What is it, Chloe?" he asked quietly, more concerned for her by the minute because of the lost, hopeless look in her eyes.

"I'm just tired," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I think I need to get a few hours sleep before tonight."

"I think it's more complicated than that," he replied, "but you're right. Get some sleep. I'll be there myself tonight." Even though he knew that Dean would most likely chew his ear off for most of the day.

Nodding wordlessly, she watched him head for the door before crawling under the covers once more, squeezing her eyes shut tightly.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Sam was quiet as he headed into the room he and Dean were sharing. Not looking at his brother, he undid the tie around his neck and tossed it on the bed before sitting down, looking weary and worried.

Watching his brother shrug out of his suit jacket, Dean knew the morning had not gone well. Of course it hadn't, he thought. Look at what they were dealing with. People, who made no sense to him whatsoever. Standing up, he said, "Do I need to ask how it went?"

He looked up at his brother. "Dude. Those people are completely off their rockers."

"I could've told you that," he replied, standing up. "I checked out that website they had. Pretty messed up, if you ask me." He glanced at the connecting door. "How is she?"

Sam hesitated a moment. "She's sleeping."

Oh boy, he thought, standing up and crossing over to the connecting door. Leaning his forehead against it, he couldn't help but think about the kiss they'd shared for the hundredth time that day... and her reaction afterwards. Going to this church couldn't have helped. "Okay," he whispered, wanting to see her face but resisting that urge. Turning back around, he looked at Sam. "What'd you guys find out, aside from the insanity, I mean?"

Here we go, Sam thought warily. "We both got invited back for dinner and services tonight," he told his brother. "Me by some random lady whom I'm pretty sure wants me to marry her daughter."

Dean cocked an eyebrow, slightly amused. "The women are after you already, huh?"

"Hey, you're not the only good looking one in this family," Sam grumbled.

"I am SO not touching that one," he retorted, smiling for a moment before it left his face. "Is Chloe going, too?"

Sam avoided his eyes. "Yeah."

Dean's eyes turned dark and stormy. "How'd she get the invite, Sammy?" he demanded.

He drew in a breath. "From the preacher."

His stomach felt like it had been sucker-punched. "What?" he demanded softly. "That sick son of a bitch spoke to her?"

If that upset his brother as much as he knew it did, he'd hate to see Dean's reaction if he found out how closely he'd stood by the pretty blonde through part of the sermon, seeming to preach right at her.

An emotion flicked through Sam's face, something that bothered Dean to no end. "What is it?" he asked harshly, taking a step closer to Sam. "Now is NOT the time to hold anything back. Not when it comes to Chloe." Why he felt this need to protect her, he didn't know.

Sam rose to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know what he said to her, but...whatever it was...it got to her, man. And...not in a good way."

Taking another few steps away from the connecting door, he saw red flashes before his eyes. Almost like he was seeing Hell itself rise up in him, creating a riot of emotions that he couldn't handle or deal with. "She didn't tell you?" he whispered dangerously.

"No," he said quietly. He let out a breath.

Quietly, without any emotion flickering across his face, Dean walked to the other side of the room and punched a hole in the wall.

"Dean!" Sam stared at him.

He leaned his head against the wall, pulling his arm out of the hole he'd just made. His arms dropped to his side, and he just stood there.

"What the hell is going on with you?" He stared in disbelief. "What are you, in love with this girl?"

Was he in love with her? he asked himself, not moving a muscle. "That's insane, Sammy, and you know it." Of course, why would he run his hand through a wall over a woman? It had never happened before. Was it everything... else? he wondered. All he knew is he wanted to see Chloe. Now. And not being able to was torture.

"Yeah, it is. We've only known for like, four days."

"What's your point, little brother?" he asked, turning around to look at him. "Who said this is just about her?"

"Then what is it about?" Sam gazed at him with worried eyes.

Shaking his head, he looked out the window. "Everything, Sammy... just... everything." He took a few steps towards the window. "And I guess you could say I... feel something for... her." It was hard getting the words out, but at least he knew Sam wouldn't completely ridicule him for saying them.

He sighed softly, looking at the floor. "I like her too," he admitted.

"That preacher didn't...hurt her, did he?" he asked darkly. *

"Like I said...I don't know what he said to her." Sam's voice was quiet. "But it upset her."

He thought for several moments. Whatever it was this dude said to her had to be connected to her past, he thought. "It's got to do with what she's running from," he voiced out loud. "Surely she could have handled this guy better if not for..." Okay, well, there was the kiss they'd shared, he mused with a frown.

"What?" His eyebrows furrowed and he looked at his brother, knowing Dean had another thought on whatever he was saying.

He shook his head. "Nothing, just... nothing." He stared out the window, standing on the spot where he'd kissed her several hours before. That one single moment branded in his head forever. The look on her face, the way she felt against him. The way she ran away.

"Right." He sighed softly.

"Shut up," Dean murmured. "Don't you have another session with Hell to attend?"

"Not for another..." Sam looked at his watch. "Five hours."

"Five hours?" he repeated, walking away from the window and moving back to the connecting door. "Think she'll let me see her before you go again?" he asked, his heart despairing at the thought of not looking at her.

"I don't know, Dean."

Sighing, he grabbed his jacket. "I'm going out," he said suddenly, heading for the door.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?" he said, not looking at Sam.

"Don't do anything stupid, okay?"

A faint smile crossed his lips. "Can't promise anything, but I'll try. I'll be back before you guys leave again," he promised, turning and shutting the door quietly behind him. Once outside, his face turned stony, a wall to keep the outside world away from what he was feeling inside.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Dean had done his best to keep himself occupied while Sam and Chloe were at their nighttime brainwashing seminar. As much as he had hoped to get to the bottom of things with just the one visit, he realized they might have to remain undercover for a bit. And that worried him more than anything else. Especially where Chloe was concerned.

He hadn't seen her nor heard from her since... He grimaced, shaking his head as he cleaned out his gun. He refused to think about that anymore. Focusing all his energy on his task, he was barely conscious of the face that there was a small knock on his door.

Sam stood outside the room, feeling drained as he rested his forehead against the door, waiting for his brother to answer.

Standing up, Dean walked to the door and opened it, surprised to find Sam on the other side. Looking like the life had literally been beaten out of him. "Dude, where's your key?" he asked slowly.

"I don't know," he murmured, moving past his brother into the room and dropping onto the bed, shutting his eyes.

He had never seen Sam like this before, and his anger and frustration leapt thirty fold. "What happened?" he asked, shutting the door and immediately glancing at the connecting door. "Chloe back yet?"

"I'm all right. Go see her. She's in there." He pressed an arm over his eyes.

Dean doubted that Sam was alright, but he didn't press the issue. Wondering how he would find Chloe, he knocked on the connecting door and waited for her to answer.

Chloe lay motionless in bed, curled up in a ball, her arms wrapped around herself as she tried to stop herself from shaking. "Come in," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Opening the door, he found her wrapped up in a ball on her bed. He shut the door and immediately went to her, kneeling down beside her. She looked pale and fragile, which made him hate this preacher guy. "Chloe," he whispered, not knowing what else to say. He sure as hell wasn't going to grill her on what she'd been through, because clearly, it had been hell.

She shut her eyes. "I'm okay," she murmured, still shivering.

"You're not okay," he protested softly, pulling back the comforter on the bed and pulling it up around her. He gently touched her face, which was cold and clammy. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was sick. "Talk to me."

"I'm freezing," she whispered almost inaudibly.

Silently, Dean pulled her to him. He wrapped the bedspread around her, then sat back onto the headboard, holding her close to him. "Let's get you warm," he whispered, rubbing her back with his hands while he cradled her.

She lay in his arms motionless, a couple of tears leaking from her eyes without her even being aware of it.

Having noticed her tears, he gently wiped them away with his thumbs. Something was seriously wrong with her, and for the life of him, he didn't know how to ask that question. Finally he asked, "What are the tears for, Chloe?"

"Everything," she whispered, closing her eyes in exhaustion.

"Can you give me an example?" he asked patiently, still holding her and trying to warm her up. She felt good in his arms, he realized. He'd wanted her there all day.

"Everything's screwed up. I don't belong anywhere," she whispered, her voice strained. "I never have."

"Funny," he said, the words spilling from his mouth, "I was just thinking how much you belong here. With me. Right now."

She didn't respond, her breathing beginning to even out as her body slowly began to relax.

He was confused by her lack of response and tried hard not to take it as rejection. He sighed softly, feeling her body gradually stop shaking, which had to be a good thing.

"You're a good guy," she whispered.

That was the last thing he'd expected her to say, but he let her words flow through his body, warming him in places he thought was dead. "You're a strong woman," he murmured in return.

"No, I'm not," she whispered, another tear trickling down her cheek.

Pulling her closer to him, he dropped a small kiss on the top of her head. "What makes you say that?"

"Strong women don't run."

Shrugging a little, he replied, "Sure they do. Who hasn't run when things get too much to handle?"

Chloe relaxed a little more as his hand settled lightly on her shoulder blades. "Thanks for picking me up off the side of the road."

She sounded so sad, like she was little more than an abandoned dog left on the side of that road. "Don't do that," he whispered, his voice ragged.

"Do what?" she almost whimpered.

"Make yourself out to be like a puppy we picked up," he whispered. "You're much more than that."

"You only think that because you don't know me."

"I know that, deep down, you have a good heart. Much more than I do." He didn't know how he knew that, but he did. Maybe it what he usually saw shining in her eyes.

"I wouldn't say that," she whispered softly.

Dean disagreed with her, but he remained silent. There was nothing he would do to interfere with this moment. Especially not a heated argument. "Maybe... holding you makes me a better man," he said almost inaudibly.

Chloe shivered and then relaxed when his arms tightened around her a little more. "You should check on Sam," she whispered as she began to drift off to sleep.

"No," he whispered. "I need to make sure you're okay. You're still shivering." He dropped another kiss onto her hear.

She didn't have the energy or the desire to protest. She fell asleep minutes later, her head resting against his chest, feeling safe and warm.

Dean stayed with her for a couple hours, watching her body slowly relax into a deeper sleep. He debated over whether he should stay there all night, but he had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate that. Funny, however, that when he tried to move her over and get off the bed, Chloe's hands gripped tighter onto his shirt, as if she didn't want to let him go.

After a few tries, however, he was able to curl her up into her bed, pulling the covers over her and kissing her lips softly before crossing into the room he shared with Sam. Opening the connecting door, he found his brother wide awake, staring at the ceiling with dead, sightless eyes.

"How's she doing?" Sam asked dully, not looking over at him.

"She's sleeping," he replied, looking at Sam with the same concern he'd had with Chloe. "She was a mess, though."

"Yeah, I figured as much." He shut his eyes and draped his arm over them, exhaling slowly.

Sitting down, he looked at his brother for several minutes before speaking. What could have affected them so... intensely? he wondered. This preacher must be a demon, because the last time he saw Sam this messed up was over... Dad. He looked down and sighed. "What happened?"

Sam was silent for a moment. Then he uncovered his eyes to look at his brother. "I'm not sure I can explain it...but these people..." He let out a breath. "Have this amazing way of making you feel like everything bad is your fault."

That comment took Dean aback. He shifted in his seat uneasily, not knowing what to say. "What.... do they tell you?" he asked quietly.

His eyebrows furrowed a little. "You know...I'm not sure," he whispered, feeling confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning. "You can't remember, or...?"

Sam slowly sat up, rubbing his forehead. "It's kinda fuzzy," he murmured.

Leaning forward, Dean asked, "What can you recall?" Something crept into his heart that he barely recalled experiencing before: fear.

He closed his eyes. "Mostly just...guilt," he admitted in a whisper. "But also...a strange sense of belonging."

"... belonging?" he said slowly. "Sammy, what the hell are you talking about? These freaks are..." He waved his hand in the air. "... well, freaks!"

"I know, Dean," he said with a hint of irritation in his voice. "Like I said, it's hard to explain."

Standing up, Dean began his habitual pacing, trying to keep a lid on his anger over how messed up this situation had quickly become. "Dude, look, you're brainwashed or something. You and Chloe. I need to know what happened."

"I think you're right," he murmured, feeling tired once more. "I think they're using some form of mind control."

Dean saw Sam struggling to keep awake and moved over to him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, he yelled, "You need to stay awake, Sammy! Snap out of it!"

"Stop yelling, man... my head's killin' me."

Dean threatened in a low voice, "Want me to make your arm hurt along with that head? Help me out, dammit."

Before Sam had a chance to respond, real, intense pain blasted through his head and he clutched at it with one hand, scattered images flashing through his mind.

Dean managed to grab Sam before he hit the floor, hopelessly watching his brother writhe in pain. His cheek muscle worked as he knew there was nothing he could do when Sam was having a vision. All he could do was keep him still while it passed.

Pressing one hand to his forehead as it ended, Sam lay back against the bed in pain. "Aspirin," he whispered.

Wordlessly, Dean got up and ran to the bathroom, fumbling for the aspirin and a glass of water. Returning back to his brother, he reached down and handed both to him. He stayed silent as he waited for Sam to take the pills and compose himself once more.

Sam downed the aspirin quickly, wincing a little as he set the glass down. "I saw...some kind of...underground...place," he said, closing his eyes. "People were there..."

"People?" Dean repeated. "People you recognize?"

"No," he murmured, shaking his head a little. "But...there were several."

Shaking his head, Dean continued. "What does this underground place look like?" Anything to help them figure out where to go, he thought. But he knew for damn sure Sam and Chloe weren't going to get near that place again.

"I'm not sure, but...I think it's...somewhere beneath the church." An alarmed look settled on his face. "I think that's where they're taking these people...to program them."

"To brainwash them," Dean said flatly. He looked at Sam, whose eyes were dull with pain. "Dude, you okay?"

"Yeah." He winced again, resting his head on one hand. "The visions are getting more painful." His voice was quiet.

"I know," he replied in a low voice. "And they seem to happen more frequently." He pinched his nose with his fingers.

"It doesn't make any sense," he murmured, leaning back against the bed.

Moving to the wall, Dean leaned against it. "No, it really doesn't," he muttered. "So... this things' underneath the church. I wonder how I can sneak in and find out more about the place?"

"No." Sam shook his head. "You can't."

"Why the hell not, Sammy? I'm not letting you two back in there!" Dean raised his voice a little, just to emphasize his resolve.

"Because I don't think you can make it down there and come back," he said darkly, wincing as his head throbbed. "The place...it's heavily guarded."

"What? We talking semi-automatics and bouncer wannabees?" he replied lazily.

"More like a big demon with a lot of teeth and claws," he said grimly.

Straightening up, he said, "I *knew* there had to be something. I betcha we can kill the hell outta this thing... once we know what it is." He glanced over at Sam, who was watching him dubiously.

"That's not gonna solve the problem, Dean."

"Got any ideas, then, college boy?" he replied with a hard tone. "I don't think I can handle watching you and Chloe have a meltdown."

"Yeah, we can kill the demon, but they're just gonna conjure another one. We have to figure out a way to stop them." He sighed in frustration.

He knew Sam was right, though he was at a loss as to how they were going to do that. As much as he hated it, Sam and Chloe would probably have to investigate it more... without him. His shoulders slumped visibly and he leaned against the wall again, this time looking at his feet.

"We may need more help," he whispered.

"Got anyone in mind?"

"Yeah. But you're not gonna like it."

Grimacing, Dean knew what Sam was thinking and looked up, his eyes glittering with frustration. "Dude, you'd better now be talking about what I think you're thinking of doing."

"Dean, we need help. If this was a couple of people, hell even ten...we might be able to handle without outside influences, but we can't do this on our own. Not against this many people."

"How do you think it's gonna go over calling Ash or Ellen after... the last time we were there?" he asked in a low voice. That was one place he didn't want to go. Not when he knew their own father had led to Ellen's husband's death.

"Dude, I know how you feel. I do." Sam looked at him. "But this is...not like anything we've ever dealt with before."

Sighing in utter frustration, he replied, "I don't know if they'd even help."

"We don't have anything to lose by asking," he said quietly.

"Fine. You're gonna make the call, though." 'Ellen doesn't want to talk to me, that I know,' he thought to himself.

"All right," Sam agreed softly. "I'll call first thing in the morning."

"Fine," he said again, not looking at his brother. He scratched his head, wondering how things got so bad. How everything had fallen apart after Dad's death, Ellen blaming them for her husband's death... meeting Chloe and his feelings for her. It was too much for him to deal with. He needed to go out and hunt something. Now.

"Chloe okay?" he asked, shutting his eyes.

Frowning, Dean didn't look up. "I don't know, Sam. Not like she was really open or... coherent at this point."

He let out a breath. "We'll talk to her in the morning too," he murmured.

"Yeah." Without another word, he grabbed his jacket. "Get some sleep. I'll be back before dawn."

"Where you goin' man?"

"Out," he said cryptically. He shrugged into his jacket, making sure his gun was inside. He intended to get out of there and check out this church site. And nothing was going to stop him.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam felt like he could have slept all day the following day, but he dragged himself out of bed. He noticed that Dean hadn't gotten back yet, which kind of worried him. Where his brother had been all night, he didn't know. That didn't make the number he was about to dial any easier.

Fumbling for his cell, Sam flipped to the number for the Roadhouse, praying that Ash picked up the phone.

"Roadhouse," Ellen said into the phone as she wiped down the counter.

Crap, Sam thought, pausing for a second. "Ellen... hi."

Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment. "Sam?"

"Yeah," he replied shyly. "It's Sam. How... how are you?"

Ellen was silent for a moment. "Just fine. How are you?"

"Fine." He didn't know what else to say. He heard her hard response to his calling. He knew she didn't want anything to do with them. "Uh, I need to speak to Ash."

"Sure thing," she said, her voice a bit softer. She looked toward the back. "Pick up the phone, Ash!"

Sam heard Ellen put the phone on the counter, obviously because Ash had taken his time getting to pick it up. In the background, Sam could hear Jo asking who was on the phone and Ellen brushing her question away with an obscure comment. 'Just as well', Sam thought. He didn't want to deal with Jo at the moment.

Several moments later, Ash answered the phone. "Ash?" he asked.

"What's up, Sam?"

"Dude, we need some help with a hunt we're doing," Sam said quickly, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind. Trying to think about what he'd witnessed last night....

"Whatcha hunting?"

"That's the thing. I don't know. It's huge and has a lot of teeth. Scariest looking thing I've seen in awhile," he replied.

"Well that narrows it down," the other man responded, laying back on his bed. "Where are you?"

"Topeka."

"Big thing with teeth in Topeka. I'll see what I can find."

Sam couldn't help but smile just a little bit. "You're going on just *that* information?" he asked, a little impressed.

"That's why they call me Dr. Badass, Sam," he said with a smirk. "I'm that good."

"I'll take your word on that," he replied with a wry smile. Trust Ash to make a comment like that. "Call me as soon as you find something... and Ash? Don't tell Ellen or Jo about this."

"Sure thing. I’ll have something soon, I'm sure," Ash said smugly.

"Yeah, I'll be waiting impatiently for your call," he retorted with a snark in his voice. He closed the phone and put it on the nightstand, just staring at it for a moment. He hoped Ash would call with something soon. In the meantime, he needed to concentrate on clearing his head of all the voices he heard in them. And of the latest vision that had nearly knocked him senseless.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Chloe had slept for nearly 12 hours and yet when she pulled herself out of bed the next day she felt as if she hadn't slept at all. She climbed in the shower, letting the hot water soothe her tired and aching bones, feeling like she'd been hit by a Mac truck. She'd just finished and had wrapped herself in the warm fluffy robe when there was a knock on the door of her motel room. Slowly padding across the room, she opened it to find Dean standing there with two styrofoam cups of coffee and a concerned, albeit tired look on his face. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," he replied, trying to smile but not succeeding. "Mind if I come in?" He nodded towards Sam, who had fallen asleep again. Between the two of them, Dean didn't know who to be more concerned about. Her pale, sad face couldn't hide her fatigue.

"Sure." Chloe stepped aside, tucking some damp hair behind her ear and closing the door behind him as he stepped inside.

He handed her one of the coffee cups he held and sat down at the table. "Looks like you need that more than I do," he replied, noticing the fact that her shoulders were slumped with lethargy. "Did you sleep?" He stifled a yawn.

"Yeah. For hours. Don't feel like I slept at all though," she admitted, taking a long drink of the coffee and murmuring her thanks for it.

Frowning, Dean stared at her, his eyes dark with the kind of concern he had no name for. He sipped on his coffee and continued staring at her.

"I'm all right," she told him without looking at him. She could feel his gaze on her.

"Liar," he mumbled into his coffee, his eyes still on her, watching her every move. She shuffled to the table and sat slowly, as if in pain.

"Where've you been?" she asked quietly.

"Out," he said cryptically. He'd spent the entire night parked outside the Woodsboro Baptist Church for any strange activity... and had seen nothing. Heard nothing. And his thoughts had consumed him all night.

"That's specific," she said with a very faint smile.

Sighing in frustration, he looked down into his coffee. "I was at that church last night."

Her eyes widened. "You... what?"

"What? You and Sam can be brainwashed but I can't?" he retorted wryly. "I wanted to see..." He hesitated. She didn't know anything about Sam's latest vision. "Sam had a vision last night, and I wanted to see if I could find what he saw."

"What did he see?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper as she leaned toward him.

"He saw... some underground place with... a demon and a lot of people," he said tonelessly. "He thinks it might be where the believers are... taken... to be brainwashed." He looked up suddenly and into Chloe's confused, yet dull eyes. "Have you been there, Chloe?" he asked quietly.

She was silent, her head suddenly beginning to ache. "No." She shook her head a little.

He leaned forward and gently touched one of her hands. "How do you know?" he asked. "You haven't seemed yourself since..." 'Since you went there', he thought to himself.

"Because if I'd been there, I'd remember it!" She suddenly felt an intense wave of anxiety wash over her.

He stood up suddenly. "Chloe." Walking over to her, he crouched down and ran a hand over her hair. Her face spoke of an intense emotion he knew she had to get out. "I think maybe you're remembering something else," he said.

"Like what?" she whispered, trembling.

"You tell me," he replied, gently tucking her face into his chest. "What's this place making you think about?"

"You aren't supposed to secrets from people you care about," she whispered.

"What secrets are you talking about?" he asked. And who was the person she cared about? That was the question that had bothered him from the moment they crossed the Kansas state line.

She slowly pulled away from him, looking like death warmed over as she put her face in her hands. "It's not like I wanted to keep it from him. But it wasn't my decision to make. They always put me in the middle of all their crap!"

A shadow crossed his face as he watched her try to keep it together while they talked. "Who's... they?" he asked quietly.

"Clark and Lana," she said bitterly.

Ah. The big secret was out. These people must be the 'thing' she'd been running from when they picked her up. Hesitantly, he put a hand on her arm. "Friends of yours?"

"I made the mistake of thinking so."

"Mistake?" he repeated, hating that there wasn't something more he could do. "Can I ask... what happened to make you think they weren't your friends?"

"Apparently I shouldn't have kept Lana's pregnancy from Clark. Except it wasn't my place to tell him and it wasn't any of his damn business anyway." She stood up abruptly.

From his crouching position, Dean watched Chloe put physical distance between them. And he grew angry over these two people who clearly had no idea what kind of giving woman Chloe was. "You mean this dude got... mad at you because you didn't tell him something that didn't sound like any of his business?!" As he spoke, his frustration level rose, making him want to pound into the wall. Again.

Bitter tears sparkled in her eyes. "Clark thinks everything about Lana Lang is his business. And God help you if you don't agree."

Rolling his eyes, Dean said, "Yeah, I know girls like that. High maintenance... among other things." He saw the unshed tears, however, and stood. Closing the distance between them, he whispered, "You love him, don't you?"

She was silent for a long moment. "I've loved him for so long I don't remember what it was like not to," she admitted painfully.

Dean didn't know whether to be relieved or jealous. This Clark didn't deserve the kind of feelings she had for him. He was glad he would never meet this dude, because his days would be numbered. He looked down to keep her from seeing the anger in his eyes and nodded silently. He put a hand on her arm and rubbed it gently in comfort.

"The thing is...I was moving past him," she whispered, slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I'd met someone else."

"I see," he replied slowly, standing in place, his head still down. "This guy... what happened with him?"

She was silent for a long moment, and when she spoke again her voice was thick. "Well...he and my cousin...started working together behind my back." The hurt was obvious on her face. "I can't be with someone I don't trust."

Dean simply nodded, knowing all too well how much trust had always been with him. That the root issue with him had always been trust. "What were they doing?"

A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly. "I'm a reporter...was...a reporter with the Daily Planet." She tried to smile but didn't manage it. "And all of a sudden my cousin Lois decided that's her calling in life too. So she gets this...story idea and asks for his help with it. He's a photographer. Apparently she promised it would send both of their careers sky rocketing."

Bitterness tinged her voice. "And she was right. It did. And I found out like everyone else did...when their names appeared together on the front page of the Planet."

Dean walked over and sat down next to her. "My God, Chloe," he replied, seeing her downtrodden face and wishing them all dead. "I'd take off, too... either that or wail on something... or someone." He put an arm around her. "I'm sorry. Very sorry." He used his free hand to pull her chin up, so she could look at him. "I'm glad you told me, though. Believe it or not, I've been... wondering a lot about you."

She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I had to get out of there," she whispered.

"Of course you did," he replied, kissing the top of her head and resting his cheek against her hair. "I doubt I'd could work with Sam if he had done something so... underhanded."

"Somehow I don't think Sam would do that to you."

Dean shrugged. "He's a college boy... not out to make a name for himself." He smiled sadly. "Not anymore, it seems." He sighed softly and closed his eyes, moving closer to her to curl both arms around her.

She shut her eyes more tightly, her head coming to rest against his collarbone. God, it felt good to be held. She couldn't remember the last time someone had simply hugged her, comforted her. It felt like forever.

He felt her relax against him and pulled her closer. There was nothing he could say to take away her pain; he knew that. The best thing he could do was hold her and hope she'd understand he wanted her around, wouldn't betray her because he had come to like her too much to do something like that.

"Thanks for staying with me for awhile last night," she whispered.

"For what it's worth, I... didn't want to leave you. But I had to talk to Sam."

"It's okay, Dean. You don't owe me anything." She slowly pulled away from him, letting out a breath. "You guys letting me tag along...means a lot."

He smiled, though it didn't touch his eyes. "Can't help it if I'm a sucker for pretty blondes stranded on the side of the road." He winked at her, though his tone remained a little serious.

She held his gaze, swallowing hard. "Dean..."

He held up a hand. "It's okay, Chloe. Really. You don't know how much you're helping us... even if I still don't like putting your life in danger." She still looked dubious at his words.

"I'll earn my keep," she said with resolve. "I'm good at this stuff. Really good."

"I know you are," he replied softly, looking at her. "But this is personal for you now, isn't it?"

"You bet your ass it is," she said quietly.

Dean saw the determination in her face and frowned. "That's not good in this line of work," he replied quietly. "It can get you killed."

"Are you telling me you've never gotten personally involved in a case before?"

"No, I can't say that... though the last time I did, I nearly died." He winced at the memory of the last hunt for the demon that had killed so many people in his family.

"Well, I have died before," she told him bluntly. "And come close to it about a dozen times besides."

Dean blinked in surprise, wondering what this woman had been through. "I'm guessing it's been a messy, strange life you've left, then?"

A dark smile touched her lips, and darkened her eyes as well. "That's one way to put it."

How was it that Chloe suddenly made him feel weak? He literally did... weak in places she wasn't ready to hear about. "How's the head?" he asked a little hoarsely.

"Still a little headachy. I'll live." She let out a breath, falling silent for a moment. "Where will you two head after this job's over?"

Dean had been so wrapped up in this job that he didn't even think about what was coming next. "I don't know," he replied uncertainly. "Since Dad... We'll head to wherever the next hunt'll be." He looked at her, a curious look on his face. "You want to come with us?" he asked quietly.

She was silent for a moment. "You want me to come with you?"

He was a little shocked that he had asked her that question, but a little more surprised she'd responded with a similar one. "Sure, why not? You're nicer to look at than Sammy, that's sure."

A smile tugged at her lips. "Gee. Good to know you're more attracted to me than your little brother," she said wryly.

He crossed his arms and feigned shock. "Gimme a pretty girl to look at any day," he replied with a smirk, his eyes lazily trailing her curves.

She felt her cheeks flush and she rolled her eyes. She wasn't used to hearing things like that from guys--let alone really hot ones. The thought startled her and she wondered why. Dean definitely fell into the 'hot' category. She gave him a look. "Funny."

"Not funny," he replied, still staring at her intently. "Very, very true." He took a step towards her involuntarily, as if to reassure her that he found her completely attractive.

Chloe swallowed hard, feeling slightly intimidated but not in a bad way. She gazed up at him, her heart pounding more quickly in her chest.

Dean noticed the emotion cross Chloe's face but kept moving towards her, as if his body was possessed by something greater than his mind could handle. He suddenly needed her to know how much she attracted him. Even if she was in love with someone else.

He moved to her until his body was inches from hers and brushed her arms with his hands, never breaking their eye contact.

And that was when Sam knocked on the connecting door. Loudly.

Startled, Chloe flinched, her eyes widening a little.

Dean bit back a curse as he abruptly let her go, striding over to the door and yanking it open. "What?" he demanded harshly.

"I talked to Ash," Sam said without hesitation, moving past his brother and into the room.

Watching Sam brush by him, Dean leaned painfully against the door. "... and? What'd 'Dr. Badass' have to say?" He glared at his brother, hating Sam's innate sense of timing.

"He's on it," he answered tiredly.

Chloe looked between them, a completely lost expression on her face. "Guys? Who's Ash?"

Sam looked at Dean, a blank expression on his face. He'd forgotten: Chloe didn't know anything about their lives. Maybe it was time she learned a little. He nodded at his brother, a question in his eyes.

Frowning, as if to say 'smooth move, dude', Dean looked at Chloe. "Just a guy we know from... well, let's just say he's damn good at random patterns."

"Random patterns as in...finding patterns of...demons and that kind of thing?" she asked slowly.

"Among other things," Sam replied carefully. "Dude's the best researcher I've ever met."

"Dude, he's the ONLY researcher you've ever met," Dean replied with a smirk.

Throwing a frustrated glare at Dean, he said, "Let me re-phrase that. He's the only MIT graduate that hangs out in a bar researcher I've ever met."

Chloe shook her head slightly as she did her best to follow the conversation. "MIT. That's impressive." She leaned back against the edge of the table, feeling more than a little out of place.

"Wouldn't know it to look at the guy," Dean muttered. "Looks more like something that got left at a Lynard Skynard concert."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes geniuses come in odd packages...even if they turn out to be evil ones," she murmured, thinking of Lionel Luthor.

"Oh, this one's definitely odd," Dean said, smiling a little at her. "Did he say anything about when he'd call?" he asked, looking at Sam, though another question was in his eyes.

Shifting uncomfortably, he replied, "Said he'd call when he has something. You know Ash: probably won't take him long. A day, maybe?" He stared back at Dean, as if to tell him no one else knew about this.

With a faint nod, Dean turned his head and stared out the window.

Yeah. She was definitely out of place. Chloe knew when someone was keeping something to themselves and while she was curious, she had a feeling it wasn't any of her business. "I'm gonna go grab some more of that courtesy coffee in the lobby. I'll be back." She headed for the door.

Dean called after her. "Chloe..." But she was out the door before he could say anything else. Wiping a hand over his face, he said, "Your timing sucks, as usual." He turned a serious look in Sam's direction.

"Or maybe I'm really good at timing," he replied, looking at his brother evenly.

"Dude, I was just getting her to talk to me," he protested.

"Yeah cause you're required to get that close to a person in order to have a conversation."

Pointing to the door, he growled, "THAT is a woman who doesn't even know her own power. I was just trying to... show her that." God, how intensely lame did he sound? he thought to himself as he dropped his hand.

"Right, so you weren't about to kiss her." His voice was dry.

"Who are you, her big brother?" he demanded, hating Sam for knowing him too well.

Sam simply looked at him.

Under the weight of that stare, Dean looked down and shrugged. "So what if I was? Not like it hasn't happened before," he grumbled under his breath.

He rose to his feet. "Yeah. The problem is...God, there's so many problems with this whole situation I don't even know where to start, Dean."

He crossed his arms and kept his eyes on the floor. "Tell me about it," he sighed.

"She seems like a very nice girl," Sam said quietly. "I just don't think that...it's a good idea right now, Dean."

Running a hand through his hair, he replied, "I know. God, I know. She's... the nicest girl I've ever met." He looked over at Sam, suddenly weary and burdened by everything she had told him about her past. And why she was running from it.

Gazing back at his brother it dawned on him that his brother had already developed feelings for the pretty blonde. "Just...be careful." His voice was quiet.

"Easy for you to say, Sammy," he replied quietly, walking to the window and looking out it. "Maybe I should hit that underground brainwashing thing you saw in your vision. Might make..." He swallowed visibly. He didn't really mean that, though it would make things... easier.

Sam flinched. "Don't say things like that," he said, his voice strained.

Sighing, he whispered, "Why not? I don't need an attraction on top of everything... else."

"Look...it's not like she's gonna be with us forever anyway. Let's just...figure this thing out and..." The way Dean diverted his gaze made Sam stop. "What did you do?"

Wincing at Sam's tone, he growled, "Kinda invited her to stay with us... as long as she needed to." His gaze turned stubborn.

Sam looked at him in disbelief.

"Come on, like you wouldn't do the same thing," he snapped, his mind going back to Sam's involvement with Meg.

"Hey, I never invited Meg to come along with us," he snapped back, glaring at his brother.

"But I bet if she hadn't been so buckets of crazy, you would have," he replied stubbornly, never breaking Sam's gaze.

"No, I wouldn't have, Dean," Sam replied, his voice bordering on harsh. "Because in case you haven't noticed, the girls that are around me tend to end up dead."

"That's cap, Sammy. Sarah didn't die, did she?"

"We were around Sarah for four days, Dean!"

"And she probably would have come with us if you'd have asked her!"

Sam looked at him like he was crazy. "Maybe. The point is, what we do is dangerous! You wanna get her killed?"

Having never come down from the anger over what Chloe had told him, Sam's words just about knocked Dean senseless. Balling his fist, he pulled back and punched Sam in the gun, making him reel back against the wall.

"Dean! What the hell are you doing?" Chloe had stepped back into her room just in time to see him pound Sam in the stomach. She shot him a stunned look and moved to Sam's side.

It took Sam a minute to fully recover from Dean's fist, his breathing hard from his anger towards his older brother's stupidity, and looked at Chloe. "I'm okay," he whispered. "We were just talking."

Dean said nothing, his fists still balled into rocks, as he continued to glare at Sam. Deep down inside, however, he knew Sam was right: it'd be murder, asking Chloe to go with them. What had he been thinking?

"Easy," she whispered, helping Sam over to the bed to sit down. "If this is what it looks like when you guys talk, I'd hate to see you fight," she said wryly, turning to look at Dean, giving him a look that was generally reserved for Clark when he was being an idiot.  
"Usually involves blood," Dean grunted in reply, seeing the 'are you kidding me?' look in her eyes and forcing himself to calm down.

Sitting on the bed, Sam looked at Dean and rasped, "Dude, you suck, you know what?"

"You all right, Sam?" Chloe's voice was gentle as she looked at him with concern. She glared at Dean. "If you broke any ribs, I'm gonna break your nose," she said, without a hint of joking in her voice.

"I'll live," Sam replied softly, smiling a little despite the ache. He almost felt sorry for Dean. Almost.

Dean just looked at her. "Now's not a good time for throwing out threats," he warned, not moving a muscle.

She rose to her feet, hands on her hips. "What? Are you gonna hit me, too?" she demanded, still glaring.

"Chloe --" Sam started.

"Hell, no I'm not going to hit you," Dean snarked back, turning his burning stare on her. The anger inflaming his attraction to her. That attraction he didn't want to have.

"Then don't hit your brother, either. Cause if I see it happen again, I'm not gonna hesitate to sock you one if he's too nice to do it." Her eyes were filled with dark anger, as well. She had no idea what made her say that. She'd never hit anyone in her entire life except out of self-defense. Well...except that one time she knocked out Martha Kent.

Something about the image of Chloe trying to hit him made him laugh, and his anger dissipated. Even if the attraction had not. Looking at his brother, he said, "See? THIS is why she needs to come with us. Look at her. I think she could take someone down -- well, maybe not me."

Sam shook his head, putting it between his hands.

"Oh, I could take you down," she said, annoyed that he was laughing at her. "Maybe not with my fists, but I'm pretty sure my taser gun would do it."

The laughter died in his voice as he remembered the last time he'd encountered a taser gun. "Hey, you keep that damn thing away from me," he said in a dark voice.

"Chloe," he began again. "Dean and tasers don't mix well."

"Last I checked no one and tasers mix well," she retorted. "But they come in pretty handy when someone's trying to have you thrown into a mental asylum."

Dean looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "Who the hell said we were going to put you in a mental institution?!"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Forget it. It's a long story." And one she wasn't ready to tell.

"And something tells me you've fulfilled your sharing quota for the month," Dean retorted hotly.

"Dean," Sam interrupted, "shut the hell up." They had better things to do than yell at each other, he thought.

"More like a lifetime," she responded, her voice flat as her defenses rose once more. "I'm going out." She grabbed her purse off the table and headed for the door.

"Chloe," Sam called, glaring at his brother. "Dean's leaving. Now. Please stay with me."

Dean looked between Chloe and Sam, his eyes hard and emotionless. Feeling shut out and rejected, he promptly swirled around and stormed through the connecting door, slamming it behind him.

She flinched slightly at the loud sound, her shoulders slumping slightly as she closed her eyes, her back to Sam.

Standing up very slowly, Sam rubbed his sore ribs and tried to smile. "Sorry you had to see us having... a debate." He frowned at her sad stance, which seemed only moments before to be way too curious yet scared of Dean.

She shrugged a little, still looking crestfallen as she turned to face him. "Is that what they call a sucker punch these days?"

"It is when I pissed Dean off like I did," he said quietly, his eyes softening in worry. "Usually takes a lot to do that."

"He shouldn't have hit you."

"Believe me, he's done worse to me," he replied in that same quiet, even tone.

She stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"Let's just put it this way," Sam replied. "Growing up with Dean wasn't.... easy. He's always been hard-headed and stubborn, but that's because Dad pushed him so hard. Plus he's just a typical older brother." He looked sheepishly at Chloe. "Not like I haven't deserved some of what he's dealt out."

Chloe was quiet for a moment. Then she moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, looking weary. "But you guys are close." It wasn't a question.

Sam smiled sadly. "Yeah," he replied. "Dean would do anything for me... and vice versa. I just know how to get his goat sometimes." He looked at Chloe, seeing in her a light he believed Dean saw, as well.

"Family has a way of doing that," she murmured.

"Especially when they're talking about..." He paused, not knowing how to continue.

"Bringing some random chick along on a family road trip?" she quipped.

Blushing a little, he replied, "Actually, it was more about keeping her along on the road trip." He took a couple steps towards her. "Hanging out with us... you could die, Chloe."

A short chuckle escaped her, but the laugh didn't reach her eyes. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time."

Sam smiled a little in response. "I take it you've been through your own share of insanity?"

"Smallville's...sort of the central for insanity." In more ways than one, she thought bitterly.

Sam stared at her, waiting for her to say something further. But when she didn't speak, he sighed. "Dean knows a little about insanity, Chloe. Hell, maybe he's a little insane, too. But that doesn't make him a bad man... Just... be careful, okay?"

Her eyebrows furrowed a little as she looked at him. "I never said he was. And I'm not...intending to get...romantically intangled," she told him quietly.

"What you want and what actually happens might be completely different," He said, putting a hesitant hand on her shoulder. He looked down, not knowing what else to say.

She looked up at him with a startled expression. "Are you trying to tell me your brother's a player?"

A year ago, Sam wouldn't have hesitated to tell Chloe exactly how much his brother played the field. But ever since their father died... Sam shook his head, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "No, just that... I've never seen him look at a woman the way he does at you."

Chloe swallowed hard, dropping her gaze. "Then you're probably right," she whispered. "I should...go off on my own after this is over."

"Not if Dean has anything to say about it," he replied, moving away from her and towards the connecting door. "Did Dean... tell you about my vision?"

"He mentioned it. There's...some kind of underground brainwashing facility guarded by a demon." She shuddered involuntarily, closing her eyes as a wave of nausea swept over her.

Sam saw Chloe sway a little and rushed over to help her. "You alright?" he whispered, suddenly afraid that something had happened to her at the church gathering last night. After all, they had gone separately... and he'd lost sight of her for awhile... hadn't he? His head began to swim suddenly with a myriad of images.

She leaned against him heavily, feeling like there was something just beyond her mind's grasp that she couldn't quite see. "Something's wrong," she whispered.

"Yes," he agreed, holding onto her so she didn't slink down to the floor. "You've got to remember... You have to --" His words stopped as he tried to remember what had happened. There was the sermon, the incessant droning of that demonic preacher. The overwhelming feeling of guilt and sin... that he was somehow tainted by everything he did. That horrible woman with the daughter. Losing sight of

Chloe....

"I'm gonna throw up," she whispered, quickly pulling away from him and rushing into the bathroom, emptying the meager contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl.

Sam let her go, listening to the sounds of her retching and feeling nauseous himself. Where had that preacher disappeared to? he kept asking himself, waiting for her to appear.

Collapsing against the bathtub, Chloe shut her eyes against the hot stinging tears that trickled down her cheeks. She didn't know how she knew it because she didn't remember it...but she knew she'd been in that underground facility. They'd gotten inside her head and done something to her mind.

When she didn't return from the bathroom, Sam went in and checked on her. He nearly sunk to his knees when he saw her crumpled up like a ball on the floor, her face devastated, the tears rolling down her cheeks. "Oh God," he whispered, crouching down to her. "He took you down, there, didn't he? It's why I'd lost sight of you."

She looked up at him with fear in her eyes. "I think so," she admitted in a barely audible voice.

"It's why you're so sick... and why you can't remember," he commented without any emotion in his voice. "What DO you remember about last night at that damn meeting?"

Chloe shut her eyes, forcing herself to draw in a breath. "I remember...dinner. Sort of. I remember um...that creepy ass preacher telling me he was glad I showed up because he thought I fit in perfectly." She winced, pressing one hand to her head.

"The preacher dude snuck out right after dinner, right about the time I lost sight of you." He bit back painful memories of the women crowding around him, hanging on every syllable he tried to utter, which the particularly fat one with the daughter had an unholy look in her eye when she gazed at him. That alone made Sam want to vomit.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she let out a shaky breath. "We have to stop these people."

"We will," he promised. "Somehow, we'll make them pay for what they've done to you." Dean would agree with him, he thought. He'd probably leave the charge, if that was possible. Helping her up, he asked, "Something... someone I can get for you?"

She looked up at him with haunted eyes and wordlessly yet hesitantly slid her arms around his waist.

A little surprised at her movement, Sam nevertheless folded his arms around her and hugged her tightly for a moment. An awkward moment, but it was reassuring to be able to hug another human being.

Chloe shut her eyes, not feeling as physically comfortable with Sam as she was with Dean, but feeling somewhat comforted nonetheless. "Sorry," she whispered, slowly pulling away.

"It's okay," he whispered, stepping away from her. "I'd say I'd bring him in, but you probably don't need that right now."

"Especially not when he's pissed off." A faint, sad smile touched her lips.

"Eh, knowing Dean, he's just put another fist through the hotel wall and has gotten over it." He watched her closely, knowing she wished he was there. But since it wasn't his place to interfere, he made no attempt to get his brother in here.

"So what's our next move?" she asked, lifting her chin to look at him.

"We need to find out what kind of demon I saw in my vision," he replied matter-of-factly. "I'll bet once that thing's out of the way, the rest will be easy as... really difficult pie." He scratched his head, wondering for the first time exactly how they were going to bring down this clearly evil facet of humanity.

Chloe was silent for a moment, her mind turning things over. "If all these people are brainwashed...what if we found some of those people who...do the deprogramming?" She looked at him. "I've heard there are people and groups who do that. Remove people from cults and get them past the brainwashing."

"Come to think of it," he said, suddenly wishing he had his laptop with him, "there ARE groups out there who do just that. Now it's just a matter of locating one in Topeka. Shouldn't be too difficult to find, since this is a large city." He headed for the connecting doors. "I'll just grab my laptop and we can start searching for that."

"Okay," she said softly, watching him head into the other room and biting her lower lip.

Sam headed into the room he was sharing with his brother, casting a glance back toward Chloe's room before making eye contact with Dean, who simply glared at him.

"I wanna see her," he said flatly, the anger still bubbling up in his eyes, though he had long ago ceased his incessant pacing and started wondering what they had been doing in that room. What they had been talking about.

"Dean, I'm pretty sure they've had her down there," he said quietly, moving to get his laptop.

"I know that, dude," he replied. "I don't know much about her, but... she's not been acting herself since you two got back. Which begs the question... where are you going?" Not the question he had intended to ask, but he couldn't believe Sam was leaving him again.

"Just back to Chloe's room. She had an idea we're gonna try to run down on the internet."

"Great," he grumbled, feeling more out the loop than he had before Sam walked through the door.

He gave his brother a look. "She thought it'd be a good idea to locate one of those groups that does the cult removal and deprogramming when someone's been brainwashed."

He nodded, though he still felt very much like the third wheel. "It's a good idea," he said, his voice flat and emotionless. Guess that meant another night of staking out for him, because between Sam and Chloe's undercover status and research, he honestly didn't know what to do with himself. Fumbling for his keys, he said, "Call me if you find something."

"Dean, I think you should hang around. Chloe's pretty wrecked right now." His voice was quiet.

"Why?" he asked, looking down at the Impala's keys in his hand. "She didn't seem to want me around a little while ago." *8

"Get over the wounded pride thing, would ya? No one ever got laid like that," Sam shot back with a smirk.

Dean cocked an eyebrow and looked up. "Who said anything about getting laid? Weren’t you the one who told me to not hurt her?"

"Damn right." Sam gazed at him. "But considering I think there's more to your feelings for her than sex..." He shrugged slightly, heading for Chloe's room.

Dean blinked in surprise, following Sam into Chloe's room out of habit more than anything. He was just on the verge of asking Sam just what the hell he was talking about when he saw Chloe sitting at her laptop, trying to research, though her empty eyes just stared at the screen.

And all thoughts of leaving flew out of his mind immediately.

She heard the footsteps and glanced at him over her shoulder, their gazes meeting. "Hey."

"Hey," he whispered, staring into her eyes and wishing he could remove the emptiness he found there. The utter desolation. "Got something yet?" he asked, sitting at the table with her.

Sam sat on the extra bed and opened up his laptop and started his own research.

"No, not yet." She glanced at him, biting her lower lip, and then casting a sideways glance at Sam, who was already engrossed in the research. "Can we..." She nodded toward his room without finishing.

A faint smile on his face, Dean nodded and stood up, letting Chloe pass as he followed her into his room. Shutting the door, he leaned against it, not sure what was going on. The haunted look on her face bothered him. He watched her sit in the nearest chair.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she murmured, not meeting his gaze.

Looking down, he took a deep breath. "So am I," he replied softly. "Sam pissed me off, like he does, and..." He shrugged carelessly, as if trying to shrug it off.

"It's kinda weird," she said, looking a little uncomfortable.

Dean smirked sadly. "Which part? Snapping at each other, beating up Sam, or this freaky ass thing you two are tangled up in?"

"Well, all of that, but..." She looked at him with a slightly confused expression on her face. "I feel oddly protective of your brother."

Moving away from the door, Dean sat down next to her and took her hand in his. "Sam seems to bring that out in people," he whispered with a small, thoughtful smile. "God knows I'd do anything to protect him."

"Yeah, but...you're his brother. I'm basically a stranger off the street," she said.

He looked up at her. "You're also a good, strong, kind hearted woman," he replied without hesitation. "Someone Sam needs right now."

The inflection of his voice gave her pause. "Is there something going on I don't know about?"

Dean's eyes wavered away from her face. He looked down, not wanting to betray the memory and pain that her question brought up. "Yes," he said slowly and with a great deal of effort.

"Oh," she whispered, falling silent. She hesitated a moment then placed a hand on his shoulder .

Taking another deep breath, he continued. "Our father... he died a couple months ago."

Chloe's eyes grew wide. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Nodding, he didn't look at her. Couldn't handle looking up. He didn't want her to see how pissed he was at Dad for dying, how he didn't know what to do or how to kill the thing that got him. Both their parents. With the Colt gone. "Yeah, Sam's taken it hard."

She was quiet for a moment. "I don't think he's the only one."

"I'm fine," he protested softly, the muscle in his jaw clenching tightly. *

"Dean," she whispered, her eyes filled with sadness. Hesitating, she slowly slid her arms around him, resting her head against his.

"Really, I'm fine," he whispered, this time more brokenly as he felt her arms press him against her. He wanted nothing more than to hug her back, but his body felt like lead.

Without thinking about it, she pressed a kiss to his temple, drawing him closer to her. She rubbed his back gently, remaining quiet.

Mechanically, Dean's arms went around her. The anger over his father's death bubbled up into his throat, making his eyes burn with tears. Something he didn't want to shed. Especially not in front of her. Not right now, anyway.

She felt his resistance, but kept her arms around him anyway, not sure which of them was more comforted by the embrace.

He forced himself to relax in her arms. After all, she hugged HIM. Not something he'd expected in a million years. Drawing her closer to him, he sighed and tucked her head under his chin.

"Is there anything I can do?" she whispered.

"This is nice right now," he admitted quietly, keeping her close to him.

She couldn't disagree, simply remaining still in his embrace, one of her hands resting lightly on the back of his neck.

Sighing, he moved his head to kiss the top of her head... then her cheek. Pulling her back, Dean leaned forward to kiss her lush lips but paused, feeling the awkwardness of the moment from the look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, this time for a different reason.

He pulled back to stare at her. He didn't see rejection in her eyes, though he knew... "It's okay," he replied softly, trying to smile.

Chloe dropped her gaze. "I can't say I'm not...attracted to you," she admitted. "I'm just..."

"... still recovering from someone who didn't love you?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow.

She glanced up at him, her eyes sad. "Something like that."

He touched her cheek a little. "Besides, I know you're attracted to me," he replied with a small, flirtatious smile.

"And how do you know that?" A faint smirk tugged at her lips as she gazed at him, not moving away from his gentle touch.

"I have ESP," he joked, leaning in and kissing her cheek quickly and pulling back before he changed his mind about not kissing her lips.

"Well, I guess the psychic thing runs in your family then," she teased.

"Guess so," he teased back, standing up and pulling her into a loose embrace.

She rested her head against his collarbone, closing her eyes.

"I could hold you all day," he said, his voice hoarse. He felt way too possessive of this blonde woman, and that scared him. He didn't know why, but for some reason, she was... fragile. And he wanted to handle her with care. He stepped back.

She swallowed hard, feeling shaken by his words, wanting to believe them and afraid to at the same time. She'd been hurt too many times. "We should… help Sam," she whispered.

"We should," he replied, looking back towards the connecting door, "though I don't know how much help I'll be. I get twitchy with all this... sitting around." He mustered a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

A smile tugged at her lips. "Me too," she admitted in a secretive whisper.

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Like to take the bull by the horns, huh?" he asked.

"Don't get me wrong...research is all right." She shrugged a little. "But it gets kinda tedious and boring." And after working side by side with Clark for the last two years--actually being involved in the non-research stuff--she wasn't sure she could return to the sidelines and watched as someone else did the more interesting part.

"Tedious and boring," he repeated her words. "Yeah, that's pretty much me." He smiled. "Thank you, Chloe."

"For what?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing a little.

"For... this," he replied, mustering a sad smile. "I think... we both needed this."

Chloe gazed at him, nodding slowly. "Me too," she admitted, hesitating a second before kissing his cheek.

He leaned into her kiss, feeling his heart literally skip a beat at her uncharacteristic action. He kept his arms at his side, though he wanted to hug her again.

"Just FYI..." A smirk tugged at her lips. "You're much cuter than Clark or Jimmy." Without waiting for him to respond, she headed into the other room.

He broke out into a large, cheeky grin, despite the torrent of emotions they'd just been through. "Damn straight I am," he smirked, feeling for the first time as though he might have met someone who might get him, understand him. Following her through the door, he only hoped he could help her out when she needed him.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. It had been a very long day, and frankly, he needed to get away. From the computer and from Chloe and Dean, who had been secretly making eyes at each other for the last few hours when they thought the other wasn't looking. He figured something had transpired between them when they snuck into the other room, and though Sam wanted to be happy about it, he couldn't. Not when there was so much wrong with their lives.

Suddenly, his cell went off. Grabbing it, he stood quickly and told the other two he'd be in the next room. Striding through the connecting door, he flipped open the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey Samuel. Got that information you wanted." Ash sounded more than a little smug.

"Don't call me that," he snapped in reply.

"Relax, man." He sat back in his chair.

"Kinda hard to when you're in the middle of hell," Sam grumbled.

"Oh, you're not on a hellmouth, dude...things could be much worse. I mean, Prio Motu's are ugly and nasty but there's worse things."

"Been there, done the Hellmouth, dude," Sam replied under his breath before he realized Ash said something else. "Wait... a Prio Motu?"

"Big, hairy, lots of teeth and claws. Fairly easy to kill."

"Sounds like a lot of fun," he replied thoughtfully. "Though Dean won't like the fact that it's easy to kill." He sat down in the nearest chair and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Wait, isn't easy to kill a good thing?" Ash sounded puzzled. "Less likely to get..." He cut himself off, clearing his throat. "Well anyway, good luck."

"Don't go there, Ash," Sam warned in a low voice. "Gonna tell me how to kill this thing?"

"Gun should do it," he said with a shrug.

"Wait, are you kidding me?" he asked, incredulous. "That's all it takes? The big teeth and all?"

"Well if you're bored you could try paper-cutting it to death," he replied wryly.

Sam snorted in derision. "Funny, you're funny, man." He paused a moment. "Thanks, I appreciate the info."

"No problem. All in a day's work." He smirked.

Laughing softly, he said, "Okay, then. I'll call if we need anything else." Closing his cell phone, Sam stood up and stretched, taking a moment to enjoy the irony of how easy it would be to kill the thing. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into Chloe's room and said, "I have news."

Chloe looked up at him from her computer. "Tell me it's of the good sort."

Looking at Dean, he replied, "I hope so."

Dean, who had been enjoying watching Chloe research way too much, used Sam's news as an excuse to look away from her. "Dude, you gonna spill it or what?"

"That was Ash. He knows how to kill this thing... this... Prio Motu."

Chloe lifted an eyebrow. "So how do you kill it?"

"With a gun."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at his brother. "That's it?"

Sam nodded, waiting for Dean's real reaction to his news.

"Well, that's considerably easier than it is to stop most meteor freaks," she remarked.

"Though it's not as much fun as other hunts we've been on," Dean retorted, staring at Sam. "Ash told you this?"

Sam nodded wordlessly, looking over at Chloe with a small shrug, as if to say, Sorry that Dean's about to be a jerk.

Chloe gave Dean a look. "Maybe not but my guess it's a whole lot safer." She emphasized the last word.

Safer wasn't what he wanted. Not after what he'd seen Chloe and Sam go through. It should be a whole lot harder than that. "So, what, we just barge in there, shoot the... whatever the hell this thing is... and leave?"

She glanced between the brothers uncertainly. "I don't think it's gonna be quite that easy. We still have an evil preacher to deal with who conjured the demon to begin with, and a whole lot of brainwashed people."

Sam nodded at Chloe. "Sounds hard, doesn't it? Will that make you happy?" he asked in a low tone.

Dean snorted in derision. "As long as I can pummel and kill the evil preacher, I'm down with that." He glared back at his brother, nearly oblivious to the fact that Chloe was in the room.

"Evil or not...he's still a person." Chloe gazed at Dean intently. "You can't just kill him."

Dean couldn't look at her. "And if he was going after you, Chloe? or after Sam? He'd be worth killing, if that was the case." He wanted that son of a bitch dead.

"Self-defense is one thing, but what you're talking about is premeditated murder." She glanced at Sam, then back at Dean. "I think...we should call the police."

"I agree with her, Dean," Sam replied, giving him a look. "You're not going there, dude. We'll kill the Prio Motu and leave the rest to the cops."

Dean's eyes took on a shimmer of determination. The last thing he wanted was the cops involved. And that bastard preacher would pay for what he did to the people he loved.

That thought hit Dean between the eyes, especially when he thought that about

Chloe, but he kept it buried deep down as he continued to stare at Sam.

"Dean." Her voice was sharp as she stared at him staring hard at his little brother. "I'm serious."

Glancing at her, he said, "We can handle this ourselves."

"You're not God," she said tensely. "You don't get to decide who lives and dies. You can't play judge, jury and executioner just because you think it's okay."

This wasn't the kind of lecture he wanted to hear from anyone right then. Not especially when he was still pissed over Dad just up and dying on him. "When's the door to this underground room open and vulnerable?" he asked Sam.

Shrugging his arms, he said, "I don't know, Dean. Brainwashed, remember?"

Realizing quickly that he was ignoring her at the moment, her jaw tensed a little and she went back to researching on her laptop, tuning both of them out.

"Well, can't you un-brainwash yourself and remember, dammit?" Dean snapped back, unaware of Chloe's change in demeanor.

Ignoring his brother's remark, Sam looked at Chloe, "Have you been able to find anything about this underground place from my vision?" He noticed the grim look on her face and frowned.

Caught up in what she was doing, Chloe didn't hear his question or realize he was even speaking to her.

Sam saw Dean about to snark another comment, so he hit him in the chest lightly. "Dude, I think Chloe's got something," he whispered. "Either that or she's pissed you're ignoring her."

The first hit of regret marred Dean's features as he turned his dark gaze onto Chloe, whose face was hard with what he assumed was concentration. "Chloe?" he asked softly.

She ignored him completely, then glanced over at Sam. "You need something?"

"Aside from Dean apologizing to you for being an ass?" he replied with a smirk. "You remember how to get into that underground room?"

She was silent for a moment. "No, but..."

When she didn't say anything, Dean asked impatiently, "But what?"

Sam hit him again to silence him. "I never got to access the design schematics of the church itself. Did you have luck with that?"

"Yeah. It wasn't hard. I just hacked into the city hall's database. There's schematics for every building in town there." She printed out what she'd found.

"Great," Sam said, taking the printed blueprints from her hand. He gave Dean a heated look. "You're much better at this than I am, Chloe. Thanks for your help."

Dean remained silent, staring at the wall, the muscle in his jaw clenching.

"No problem," she said, still not looking at Dean. "I'm kinda hungry. I think I'm gonna go get something to eat. Want me to bring something back for you guys?" she asked, rising to her feet.

"Sure, Chloe, whatever would be okay," Sam replied, handing her some money and the keys to the Impala. "Here, take the car." He glanced over at Dean, who hadn't noticed that transaction.

She raised her eyebrows as she took the keys. "You sure that's a good idea?"

Looking over at Dean, Sam smiled. "Yeah, you'll be safer in that than a cab. I'll deal with jerkface while you're gone."

Shrugging a little, she wasn't about to turn it down. "All right. I'll be back soon." She headed for the door.

Dean turned just in time to watch Chloe head out the door. Turning to Sam, he asked, "Where's she going?" At the sound of the Impala starting, his confused voice changed to a low growl. "And in MY baby?"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Forty five minutes later, Chloe returned with a bag of Chinese food for the guys. She strolled into her room, sipping a highly-sugared latte. "Hey." She tossed the keys at Dean, who was sitting on the edge of her bed.

He watched as the keys landed next to him. Frowning, he nevertheless didn't look up at her. "Hey," he repeated in a dull tone. He supposed he should leave, but after the argument he and Sam just had, fighting with her seemed the better of the two options.

"Where's Sam?" she asked, heading over to the table and setting down the bag of food. "I brought Chinese."

Dean pointed to their room, still not looking at her. Though he personally loved Chinese, he made no move to take some of it.

She was silent for a moment, studying him. "I'm guessing you guys fought...again."

"Perceptive," he replied quietly, looking up but at the keys next to him.

"Well, I am...was...a reporter." She folded her arms over her chest.

"Once a reporter..." he began, grabbing the keys and standing up. He knew what he'd done earlier had hurt her, as Sam had been so keen to point out, but he didn't know what to tell her to show how sorry he was.

"True." Chloe studied him. "So what'd you fight about *this* time?"

"You..." He wanted to say, *Again*, but that would bring up way too many questions in her brain. He dared to look up at her, his eyes wary yet regretful.

A surprised expression appeared on her face. "Look, if I'd known borrowing your car was going to be that big of a deal I would've said no."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, normally I don't like people driving my girl, but... that's not what I'm talking about."

"Then what are you talking about?" Her shoulders were tense.

Looking up at her, he debated on what to say, how to say it. Then told himself to screw the words and just tell her. "About... earlier."

She was silent for a moment. "Look...I was doing some thinking while I was out and...I think that maybe..."

"You were right," he interrupted her, looking away towards the window.

"I should..." She stopped, staring at him. "What?"

Dean looked back at her. "Killing the preacher... not a good thing. No matter how much I freakin' want to." His face remained emotionless, though his eyes betrayed the depth of the hate he felt for the man who had played with this woman's mind. With his brother's mind.

Chloe's eyes softened. "Oh," she whispered.

Though he stared at her, he felt the air between them thicken with... something. He couldn't put his finger on it. He dared to take a step closer to her, hesitantly. "What were you going to say?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

She looked down at the floor, falling silent again, shaking her head slightly.

He wasn't used to begging, but he wanted to hear her voice again. To have her say anything. "Tell me," he whispered, a hint of desperation in his voice.

She shut her eyes. "I'm just...I'm not sure that...I should be tagging along with you guys," she admitted quietly.

Sighing in frustration, he looked at her in surprise. "I thought we'd already covered this, Chloe."

"I know." Her voice was soft. "It's just..."

"Just what?" he asked, a little insistently. "You think you're going to get in between Sam and me? We're too much for you?" He wished he could hide the note of irritation in his voice.

Chloe glared at him. "You wish."

"Then... WHAT?" he emphasized.

"Maybe I'm too much for you," she retorted, a challenging look in her eyes.

He snorted, taking another step in her direction. "In your dreams, sweetheart," he snapped.

She smirked, lifting her chin a little defiantly. "Now you're really wishing."

He took another step towards her, his anger and frustration rising. "What's your deal? Here I'm trying to apologize and you're... I don't know what the hell you're trying to do." He waved his hand in the air, his tone angry.

"This is you apologizing?" she asked dubiously.

He crossed his arms. "Sure, why not? Not like you're gonna accept it," he snarked in response.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes, turning away from him and grabbing the bag of food, shoving it against him. "Here. Go eat with your brother."

He grabbed her arms as she tried to pull away from him. "No, you're not going anywhere," he demanded, not caring that their dinner was smushed between them. "I'm trying to tell you something, dammit."

Chloe stared into his eyes, startled at his actions. "Fine. Apology accepted. Now let me go."

"No," he protested, his grip on her tightening just a little. "I want to kill that bastard preacher for what he did to you... to BOTH of you."

Swallowing hard, she trembled involuntarily. She wasn't scared of him and for some reason her mind thought she should be, especially considering his hands were wrapped around her arms in an almost possessive grip. No one had ever spoken to her like that before, had gazed at her with that much intensity.

"Are you getting what I'm trying to tell you, Chloe?" he rasped, pulling her closer to him. He felt like he was being possessed by a force from within that he'd been denying since the day he'd set eyes on this blonde-haired, doe-eyed woman.

She got it loud and clear. That was the problem. "Please let me go," she whispered.

"No," he repeated. He doubted his sanity, his ability to communicate his innermost thoughts to another human being. Particularly one he seemed to feel too much for. His grip loosened on her arms, but he still held her. And suddenly wanted her to understand. To accept. To... NEED.

Her breathing was shallow and she felt like she was starting to unravel at the seams. "I can't give you what you want."

"All I want is for you to know what I'm unable to speak," he whispered, not taking his eyes from her face. A voice in his head told him to back off, to let her go, but he needed that confirmation from her first.

"I know." Her voice was strained.

Nodding, he released her and backed up. "Okay," he whispered, turning away from her and heading for the connecting door. Being with his angry brother was better, he thought.

She watched him go, then slumped back against the table, shaken to the core.

With the bag of food in hand, Dean yanked the connecting door open and slammed it behind him, making Sam jump off his bed, where he had been scanning through the church schematics. "That woman," he muttered, tossing the bag on the table and tearing it open.

"What'd you do to her now?" Sam grumbled.

"Why's it always about me?" he demanded angrily, pulling out the container of fried rice and a spoon, digging into it with angry, frustrated motions.

"Because you're self-involved?" he retorted, grabbing one of the boxes of food.

"Not the time for funny, man," Dean growled, stabbing at the rice as if in attempt to kill it. "Nothing about today has been about me."

Sam looked at him skeptically. "Fine. What's it about then?"

"Her." Her and that insane need he had to make her get over that asshole she still loved. He took a bite of his food and munched, avoiding eye contact with Sam.

He was quiet for a moment. "Is she all right?"

"I don't know, Sammy. I don't know anything anymore." He stared at the boxes of food on the table. "Probably should have left some of this for Chloe."

Sam sat back down on his bed, taking a bite of the food. "Maybe she already ate."

Dean just sat there, staring sightlessly at his food. What had he done, except scare her, ignore her, and maybe kill her in the end? His desolation knew no boundaries, and that scared him more than anything he'd hidden since his father had died.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Chloe drew in a deep breath as she stared out the window of the Impala's backseat at the church. "Looks like no one's home but I bet that's a deceptive impression."

"More than likely," Dean replied tonelessly, staring at the dark building. He could only imagine how that demonic preacher kept the Prio Motu at bay.

Turning around to glance at Chloe, Sam whispered, "You ready to do this?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she said with a wry, albeit nervous smile as she reached for the door handle.

"Be careful," Dean said quietly but solemnly, taking a glance at her. "You better scream the second you're in trouble."

She met his eyes for a brief moment. "I'll scream so loud I won't have even needed the wire," she said grimly, stepping out of the car and slowly heading up toward the church.

Getting back into the car, Sam looked at his brother. "This isn't a good idea, dude, letting her go in there alone."

Staring after her, Dean didn't answer. He knew it was a bad idea, but since he knew she wasn't going to listen to him, he let her go. Because he knew somehow that she could handle it.

Chloe slowly stepped into the church, jumping a little as the heavy door closed behind her, its echo resonating through the building. "Hello?" she called timidly, her heart pounding in her chest.

As though appearing out of thin air, Pastor Frank appeared, just in front of her. "Good evening, Chloe," he said slowly, his eyes piercing into the darkness and settling on her face.

Feeling ill at just the sight of the man, she forced a small smile. "Hello, Pastor Frank. Is this...is this a bad time?"

Coming close to her, he replied smoothly, "Not at all, my child. Just spending some quality time with the Lord Almighty. How can I help you?" He put an arm around her shoulder and ushed her into the church.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, wincing inwardly as he touched her. "I just...can't seem to stay away from this place. It feels like...I need to be here. That probably makes no sense."

Pastor Frank chuckled, a low growling noise that sounded almost animalistic. "It makes perfect sense, Chloe. It's the Lord calling you here. He wants you to be a part of His Ultimate Will. You're here for a reason." As he spoke, he led her down a hallway that seemed to not end.

Feeling a little nauseous the farther they walked, her heart began to pound harder. "I think you're right," she whispered, her head starting to hurt. Her mouth went dry as she walked beside him down a long set of spiralling stairs.

"Of course," he whispered, a snake-like sound emanating from his lips. "Can't you hear our Lord's Will? I know he's speaking to you, telling you of the sins you must cleanse now from your mind and body. Of your sinful past." They headed deeper into the ground's belly, towards the hidden room underground.

Her hand clutched a little more tightly to her purse, keeping it close to her side as the eerily familiar room came into view. "How do I do that?" she murmured, trying to remember the code word to signal trouble.

"You must be filled with His Word, only something I can provide, since I am the leader of His army on earth," the preacher replied, leading her into a room and nodding to the guard, who stood watch over the large creature inside. "You'll find His presence in here. Take comfort in it."

Chloe barely managed to suppress a shudder at his words, something flashing to the forefront of her mind. Praying to God that the wire she wore was functioning underground, she said, "What do you think about *Impala's*?"

"Hear that?" Sam said, his back going ramrod straight. "She's in trouble."

Dean was already out of the car, shotgun in hand, before Sam had a chance to finish his sentence.

"Impalas?" Pastor Frank asked. "They are instruments of Satan, dangerous and deadly." Turning her around, he whispered in her ear, "Listen to the words of God and be cleansed of such things."

At those words, her mind grew fuzzy and she moved sluggishly to a chair, slowly sitting down, a vacant expression in her eyes.

Dean waited only long enough for Sam to catch up before literally kicking in the door.

"Smooth, dude," Sam whispered, peering into the darkness, sensing the hallway despite the blackness of the room. "Down that way."

Nodding, Dean strode in and felt his way down the dark hallway, gun cocked and ready.

Chloe's gaze was locked onto Pastor Frank, unaware there were already two other individuals in the small room while the Prio Motu stood at the front of the room, his eyes glowing.

Pastor Frank spoke slowly and quietly, his words washing over Chloe like water cleansing her. It was only when the Prio Motu growled menacingly that he took notice of two other people in the room.

"Go get her," Dean whispered to Sam. The creature was his. He listened for the heavy breathing and growling. "Come to Daddy," he whispered, aiming his gun in the direction of the sound.

The beast took a menacing step toward him, teeth bared.

Catching a glimpse of light flashing off the creature's teeth, Dean smiled grimly. "There you are," he whispered, aiming his pun at the beast's head and pulling several shots off towards it head.

Sam crept up behind the preacher and shoved him out of the way. Crouching down, he shook Chloe. "Come on, Chloe, wake up!" he yelled.

Flinching as he shouted in her face, she blinked a few times, her mind still fuzzy. "Sam?" she whispered in confusion.

"Chloe," he replied, yanking her onto her feet. "Gotta snap out of it, girl."

Moving across to the room, Dean pelted the demon with a couple more bullets to make sure it was really dead. What he didn't see was Pastor Frank sneaking up behind him, something in his hand gleaming in the barely discernable light.

Blinking again, the image barely registered in Chloe's mind before she moved, grabbing a chair off the floor and swinging it, hitting Pastor Frank with it, hard. The large knife clattered loudly to the floor.

"What the --?" Dean yelled, hearing the noise behind him. Turning, he found Chloe holding a chair and the preacher on the floor, unconscious.

Sam crouched down and looked at Pastor Frank. "Out cold, dude."

Feeling dazed, Chloe's head throbbed painfully and her eyes rolled back in her head as the ground rushed up to meet her.

"Chloe!" Dean shouted, making a rush for her and managing to catch her before she collapsed on the floor. He brushed the hair away from her face. "Sammy, she needs help."

"I'm calling the cops." Sam pulled his cell phone out and quickly dialed 911.

Dean nodded silently as Sam dialed 911 and got the cops and an ambulance to get over to the church. "How's the Evil Pastor Incarnate?" he asked once Sam was off the phone. He held Chloe's unconscious body against his, as if to shield her.

"Still out of it. I'm guessing he will be for awhile." Sam looked down at him, then knelt down beside his brother and Chloe. "Man, I didn't even see him move."

"Apparently he's a fast little sucker," he replied softly. "And how the hell did Chloe do that thing with the chair?"

"No idea, Dude. One minute she was in la la land and the next she was saving your ass."

"Almost like... she was possessed or something," he murmured, looking down at her. "She going to be okay, Sammy?" His voice was small, the burden of guilt on his shoulders. "I should never have let her do this."

"I think she'll be all right," Sam said quietly, glancing at him. "I don't think she's hurt physically."

"It's her head I'm worried about." He heard the wail of sirens and sighed. "How we gonna explain... that?" He motioned over to the dead demon.

"I think we should get the hell outta here. We can take her to the hospital ourselves."

Nodding, Dean stood and picked Chloe up. Holding her close to him, he whispered, "Dude, lead the way. Get us outta here."

Within minutes they were safely in the Impala, speeding away from the church with Sam behind the wheel.

"What's going on?" Chloe murmured, her eyelids fluttering.

"It's over," he whispered to her, running a hand over her hair. "Taking you to a hospital now."

Sam pressed harder on the gas, pushing the Impala to nearly impossible speeds to find the closest hospital.

"No hospital," she protested weakly, struggling to sit up.

Holding her gently, Dean scooted back against the back seat, trying to make her more comfortable. "Yes, you're not going to argue with me over this. There's something wrong, here. That man had you... spellbound."

"For once, I agree with Dean," Sam replied, making a sharp right turn into the emergency room driveway. "Creepy preacher man had you in his thrall."

"Somehow I don't think a hospital's gonna be equipped to deal with that anyway," she murmured, shutting her eyes.

"Not if you get a psychologist to look at you," Sam muttered under his breath.

"No way," she said, sitting up quickly, her eyes wide with anxiety. "Forget it."

Dean sighed. "Chloe, what...?" He saw her face turn a frighteningly pale shade of white and wondered if this had anything to do with the past she was running from. "Sammy, turn the car around."

"What...? Dude, we're here," he protested, turning around and noticing Chloe's pasty white face. "Chlo, you okay?"

"I'm not going in there and you can't force me," she said vehemently.

"We're not making you," Dean replied, letting her go as she struggled out of his arms. He felt the rejection keenly but kept that emotion firmly at bay.

"Let's just get the hell out of here," she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Dean looked at Sam through the rearview mirror and nodded. He then moved himself to the other side of the Impala, giving Chloe room away from him.

Sam reluctantly started the engine and put the car in gear. They headed back to the hotel in utter, awkward silence.

Within less than an hour all three of them had packed their bags and stuffed them in the trunk of Dean's car. Not hesitating before she climbed in the back, Chloe fastened her seatbelt and stared out the window into the dark night. She didn't know where they were going, and she didn't care. She just wanted to get as far away from Kansas as possible.

Chloe hadn't said a word since the hospital incident, and Dean felt more awkward around her than ever. Slamming the driver's side, he looked at Sam get in on the other side. "Dude, we're getting the hell outta Dodge." Turning on the Impala, he left the hotel parking lot and headed immediately for the interstate.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked, a little concerned for both Dean and Chloe, who had been way too quiet.

"North," was all that came out of Dean's lips before turning on the music. Very loudly.

"North sounds good," Chloe whispered, curling up in the seat and resting her head against the window. Anywhere but home sounded good.

"We'll stop in Omaha," Dean replied to both of them. "Won't take too long to get there."

"Good," Sam replied, scooting back into the seat, his eyes drooping and mind tired.

None of them uttered another word the entire ride.


	7. Chapter 7

It had been a long and tense drive for them, but once they'd stopped on the north side of Omaha, Nebraska for the night, Dean had thought a great deal about killing the demon and the preacher, who he hoped was in jail rotting somewhere.

And the fact that Chloe had saved his life.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on her hotel door, pulling his coat around him. He silently cursed this place for not having a connecting door between rooms, but that didn't matter, since they'd be heading further north in the morning. He stood there, waiting to see if Chloe would answer the door.

A moment later she opened it, a warm robe wrapped tightly around her. Her face was still pale and her eyes spoke of exhaustion that hadn't yet even fully hit her. "Hey."

"Hey," he replied in an even tone, though his eyes darkened with emotion at the look in her tired, weary eyes. "Mind if I come in for a moment?"

"Sure," she murmured, stepping aside to let him in. She shut the door behind him and leaned against it.

Dean stuck his hands in his pants pockets, looking down at her, not knowing how to start. She looked like she could barely stand, so he needed to make it quick. "So... I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me? For what?" Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

He looked up in confusion. "You saved my life from that freaky ass preacher. Don't you remember?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Swallowing hard, she averted her gaze. "Right. That." She wound her arms around herself protectively.

"Yeah." He glanced down at his feet once again, not knowing what else to say to her. "So anyway... thanks for that."

"Sure," she whispered.

Dean wanted to leave, but since she was still blocking the door, he couldn't. Shifting onto his other leg, he looked at her. "So.. I'll see you in the morning," he said, taking a step towards her and the door.

Wordlessly she moved aside, not meeting his eyes.

Grabbing the doorknob, he paused before opening it. Not turning to look at her, he whispered, "I'm glad you're with us, Chloe." He turned around to gaze at her with frank, open eyes.

Chloe swallowed hard. "Goodnight, Dean," she whispered. "Sweet dreams."

She looked so sad, so tired. So alone. His gut told him to do more than just simply thank her, so he took the few strides between them and enveloped her in his arms, leaning her head back and kissing her tenderly on her tired mouth. To prove he wanted her there. To let her know he cared about her, at least.

Her eyes drifted shut as she returned the soft kiss, her forehead leaning against his when it ended. She didn't know what to say, so she simply remained silent, enjoying the moment.

When she didn't immediately move away, Dean held her to him, not making any effort to pull away. He wanted to take her fatigue from her and onto his shoulders. After all, he believed it was his fault she was in her current condition. He didn't speak, not wanting to ruin the moment. He stayed, holding her, hoping she understood that she'd never be alone with him and Sam.

After several long moments, she slowly pulled away, managing a faint, tired smile. "We should get some sleep." Her voice was very soft, barely audible.

Dean nodded, staring at her softly. He regretted the physical separation but knew she needed the sleep more than he did. "Sleep well," he whispered, stepping away from her and towards the door.

"Goodnight," she whispered, watching him go with a heaviness in her heart. And wondering what the hell was happening between them.

Shutting the door behind him, Dean watched his breath puff out in short spurts, wondering what had just happened. And guessing that the road he and Chloe found themselves on would be filled with more potholes and warning signs. With that on his mind, he went back to his room, hoping sleep would find him.


End file.
